Harry Potter and the World of Deceit
by LGreymark
Summary: Summer before fourth year everything is turned on it's head. Harry is forced to reevaluate his outlook and his future in the world. HHr, smut in later chaps. Read the AN inside for more details. (Romance/Tragedy/Adventure). Part one of The Deception series
1. Authors Note

AN: Hi there and welcome to my first HP fic. First things first, quick disclaimer, JKR owns the Potter universe yadda yadda you know the drill, not here for money here for fun. Second up, this is rated M for a reason; There will be graphic violence, there will be gore, there may be rape, there will be consensual sex, there will be torture, there will be character death. I do not pull my punches in my writing and you have been warned. Any one reading this who is under the age of majority in their country should turn around and head back the way they came, same with anyone who is averse to any of the above or has a weak stomach.

Now onto the cheerful stuff, I decided mostly on a whim, and then planned obsessively for months, this fic. It's pure HHr, there will be fluff aplenty amidst the gore and violence, there will not however be "Will they/won't they" angsty moments, there might be fights, but there won't be the typical "chapter of worry" where the author keeps the readers on tenterhooks wondering what's going to happen with their pairing. As a reader I hate that and I couldn't bring myself to write it if I tried. Now be warned, this is a tragedy, whether H, Hr, or someone else close to them dies isn't for you to know just yet, I'm not giving away my plot in the opening AN, rather it's a warning for anyone who might feel ripped off by such an ending, turn around now and walk away.

Some housekeeping;  
>As mentioned this is HHr, they won't be paired with anyone else, but everyone else is as they say, "Up for grabs", all characters will be monogamous, I'm not one for harems, threesomes, whateversomes.<p>

Part of me wishes I could add more "Themes" to this story, give people a better idea of what they're getting, but I can do so here, the relationship between the various character parings will revolve around different things, for HHr it's the undying bond of friendship and trust between them. Support, partnership, etc. Other pairings will have their own "focus" but not all will be obvious. Finally I want to point out before we get started that I don't condone abuse of any kind, rape, torture, murder or any of those other horrible things. But the world doesn't always share my views and unfortunately to portray an accurate story and have true inter character relationships these things need to be included, especially in such a bigoted society as wizarding Britain in the HP universe.

About the universe, this is a slightly AU fic, in that it will contain concepts that JKR's universe doesn't (as far as I'm aware) explore at all, such as impulse casting and spells that shape the world around the caster according to their will. These will be an integral part of some parts of the fic and I ask you to be patient with me and have an open mind, hopefully everything will slot into place nicely.

Before we tackle the story itself I have one last thing to say, there will not be Horcruxes in this fic, that's right, I'm going there. I've seen a few authors do this in different ways, (Muggledad is a good example, he tackles his stories with a nice and refreshing air of scepticism and originality that I'll be trying to channel (But not copy)). This story starts in the summer just after Harry's third year at Hogwarts. Some of the characters in this story will be altered in personality or appearance to fit my ends, /shrug, deal with it. Underage use of magic… this is a tricky one, because while I like the concept as a literary device it doesn't fit well with the universe I have imagined for this fic. So to elucidate I have come up with an alternative. Instead of having a flat ban on all magic for under seventeens, I have instead devised a sort of tiered release, allowing young teens to practise magic at home for the purposes of study or convenience. First years are allowed to practice simple charms such as lumos and other simple spells that make living a bit easier, second years are allowed a little more freedom, and so on. The International Statute of Secrecy (Henceforth known as the ISS) still applies as normal, as does the reasonable use of underage magic clause for life threatening circumstances or cases of near bodily harm.

I hear you I hear you, let's get on with it.

LGreymark.


	2. A house and some letters

AN: Here we go folks, first chapter, disclaimer as per the AN in the "1st" chapter. Bit of a warning, this story starts off quite… gruesome. You have been warned.

-:-

Chapter One: A House and Some Letters.

Deep within a valley, saturated with summer rain, a lone house stood on a small hill. House perhaps is not the right word; manor would perhaps be more accurate. It stood at three stories tall, though the third was little more than an attic, and its whitewashed walls had stood since the eighteenth century. The house itself was a simple affair, a set of rooms per floor, each with its own purpose and standing. A simple garden, though quite large, and a long straight driveway hemmed with pine trees led from its front door, down the hill, and deeper still into the valley. Muggles could see this, and only this; however, it is what they could not see that was important. Pine trees are perfect for glamours; they have a straight narrow quality which lends itself quite nicely to being the disguise for a much grimmer affair. For it was not truly pine trees that lined the approach to the manor, but rather twenty meter high wrought iron stakes. Atop each of which was a skeleton, a human skeleton. Some still had pieces of flesh hanging from their rain-soaked and sun-bleached forms. Others had been picked clean by the carrion fowl who constantly circled the manor. Bodies impaled in such a way did not usually stay on the stake for long, the head usually remained but the rest of the carcass usually slid down the stake to the base separating at the neck and leaving a rust coloured stain on the metal.

These skeletons however were held together, not by wires or taxidermy thread, but via the medium of magic; bonded with a simple sticking charm in their final pose of rigour mortis. Some were grotesque, limbs splayed out wildly as they still panicked in fear, kept alive for moments to understand their plight. Others were resigned, hanging limply with their heads bowed. Yet more were accusing, skeletal fingers forever pointing at some unknown executioner. One however, was not still; it still moved, and more horrifically, it still had the visage of a woman on its skull, not the sun-bleached bone of generations of rot. Screams filled the air.

At the base of the stake stood a tall man, his features sunken and sallow, as if cast from warm wax on a hollow frame. Dark hair, cut short on the back and sides but left to hang freely in the front obscured the man's face, but his head was tilted upwards towards the woman on the stake. His waxy features were speckled with blood. Robes hung from his shoulders; dark and sodden in the wet they seemed to diminish the man. They did not fit him well and his emaciated form did not fill out the garment clearly tailored for a more muscular frame. The woman by contrast was a study of health, aside from the four-inch-thick metal pole transfixing her chest. Her limbs had a healthy sheen to them; her hourglass of a figure, feminine in every respect, screamed the wealth of a healthy lifestyle. But blood like a thick river covered her porcelain skin, straying out in great arterial sprays from her chest. It was a horror then that she was still conscious, still well aware of her surroundings, well aware of her pain-racked body. Throat burning, she screamed, blood-curdling, echoing, howls of terror and pure stomach-clenching pain. Not the kind of imagined pain from a slap, or the kind of discomfort that comes from having eaten too much and your stomach being upset. No this was raw, muscle-clenching, spine-wracking agony; the kind of pain that makes grown men collapse shuddering to the dirt. The kind of pain a woman goes through as she bears her child to the world. Fingers clenched, arms crossed across her abdomen, head flung back and legs shaking, shuddering. The woman screamed.

Her mouth was wide open, tongue bitten off in the throes of her torment nearly an hour past. Her eyes clenched shut in a rictus of agony and her hair flaying in the wind accompanying the rain. Drenched with not only her own vital fluids but the water from the heavens, a single unbroken syllable wracked from her throat in undulating waves of sound that battered at the very mind. Beneath her, the man was unfazed; a dry voice rose from his lips, harsh from long disuse.

"You should have expected as much Bertha, that lovely mouth of yours couldn't be trusted to stay shut. It's a shame, it was such a pleasure not so long ago, now it simply rasps on my ears."

The man paused politely, as if waiting for a response. When all that could be heard over the sound of the hammering rain was the constant endless ululation of the former ministry worker he shook his head, disappointed.

"I expected better of you, so rude not to reply." A soft sigh breaks from his lips, "You bore me Bertha; I'll leave you here to think about things for a bit. If you're still conscious when I return from my master's side we can talk more then."

Without another word the figure turned smartly and began walking up the long driveway, his worn leather boots, the one thing on his person that seemed to fit, putting footprints in the muddy gravel. He'd taken no more than three steps when he seemed to collapse upon himself with a whiplash crack of displaced air.

The doors of the manor were an elegant affair; double doors of teak, standing at a full seven feet, elegantly carved with cast iron door knockers. Above these knockers was a small plaque; bisected by the split between the doors it had writing on its surface: 'The House of Riddle'. The plaque was wrought from silver, and though tarnished with age the words could still be easily read. The frame into which the door was set had the look of something not quite real. Its surface appeared to shimmer or shudder in the light. But at that point, dank and dreary as the day was, it looked nothing more than it appeared, a simple white-washed frame for an elegant door.

In front of these works of art the tall man seemed to unfold himself from mid-air in an instant, the familiar whiplash crack of the air accompanying his apparition. Elegantly stepping forward and rolling up the left sleeve of his robes he drew a long thin rod of wood from an inner pocket and pressed it to an ugly tattoo on his forearm. Instantly the doors responded, cracking open, and then swinging soundlessly inward on well-oiled hinges. The interior of the manor was dark; no lights warded against the shadow on the valley brought in by the rainclouds. The man didn't seem to mind but he did stand on the threshold, his raspy voice near whispering into the darkness. "I have returned my Lord, may I enter?"

From within the bowels of the manor came a voice, if it could be called that by any sane ear. It defied both logic and understanding, seeming to come both from in front and behind the listener, not in a single tone but many, overlapping and clamouring to be heard. It sounded as though a choir of high reedy tones overlapped one another, some in different pitches or with different amounts of rasp or hiss. Altogether the sound sent a shiver up the tall man's spine. Involuntary of course, but not unwelcome.

"My dear, trusted, most faithful servant; you have returned at last. Come in, we have much to discuss."

The tall man bowed at the threshold, bending at the waist, a hand on his abdomen and another twisted behind the small of his back. He paused for a second, listening intently for the screams of the woman in the distance. Evidently satisfied he stepped into the darkness of the manor, his voice calling to his master in the gloom. Even as the door swung shut silently behind him his words could still be heard.

"Tell me of this Harry Potter."

-:-

Miles and miles away, in the smallest bedroom of a small house in Surrey, a young man bolted upright in bed, his eyes wide, breath coming in short gasping heaves and a strangely-shaped cut on his head burning in pain. Abruptly the young man became aware of this pain and knuckled his forehead, bending at the waist and grimacing silently in discomfort. After a moment or two the stinging abated and Harry Potter collapsed backwards onto his bed sheets. Thoughts rained through his mind like wildfire; what did it mean? Who was the tall man? Harry shuddered; who was the young woman? The smallest bedroom was pitch black and the raven haired teen had no idea of the time; blindly he scrabbled for a moment in the dark for his glasses. After a moment he gave up and instead scrabbled for his wand on the bedside table. When that too proved out of reach, he muttered darkly before angrily commanding, "Lumos."

The wand tip ignited mere inches from his hand and Harry snatched the wand up, blinking in the sudden light and using it to help find his glasses. After a minute of searching he managed to find them on the floor between his nightstand and his bed; they had apparently fallen off in the night. With a short grunt he snagged the arm of his glasses and slipped them onto his face. Finally after nearly five minutes of frantic and near fruitless searching he finally discovered the time on his dull digital clock; 0004. Nearly five minutes after midnight, typical. Voldemort would choose his birthday for a murder. The young teen sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard, wincing as one of his recent bruises caught on fabric of his rough sheets. A welcome home present from Uncle Vernon, the beefy man had used his belt on Harry's back and the clasp had left a nasty welt on Harry's calf on one of the backswings. Leg and head both throbbing, not to mention his shoulders and back, Harry collected his thoughts. Furiously trying to remember as much of his dream (vision?) as possible, like always however it was like trying to hold onto water as the details rapidly slipped through his fingers. He sighed softly; that scream was still with him though. It had sounded so real.

A soft sigh escaped from his slightly chapped lips, a single thought chasing around his head. 'Did he do this because it was my birthday? Am I, even indirectly, the cause of her death?' Those words ran around inside of him like a blaze of wildfire, setting aflame his insecurities and self-doubts.

Abruptly he was shaken from his reverie as a sharp tapping echoed through the room, an owl? Slowly he moved across his small room to the window and slid open the curtains. Sure enough there was Hedwig waiting to be let in. Quickly, Harry undid the latch and with a heave opened the sliding window so his feathered familiar could rush into the room in a flurry of wings. Nearly unnoticed a feathered grey missile shot in behind Hedwig and slammed into the desk. Harry winced at the thump before sliding the window closed and turning to Hedwig. "What have you got for me girl?"

The snowy owl proffered her foot and the raven haired teen quickly divested her of her burden. It was a fairly thick envelope with the elegant handwriting of Harry's best friend. Almost absently the young man's thumb traced over the writing before setting the envelope down on the desk.

Pigwidgeon was slightly easier to deal with as the little owl had knocked himself out upon making contact with the desk. Tutting, Harry placed the small bird near Hedwig's cage where he could drink from her water dish when he woke. The letter from Ron was smaller, probably so that Pig could carry it, but it was no bother to Harry; he enjoyed hearing from Hermione more.

Holding both letters in his hands he agonized over them before finally picking Ron's first; best to save the best till last. Slitting open the envelope he quickly read the contents. As expected it was typically short, but the contents were wondrous nonetheless.

'Harry

Dad got tickets to the world cup! Won some kind of lottery at work. You're coming of course, dad will pick you up tomorrow afternoon so that you don't have to spend your holidays with those Muggles. See you then!

Ron'

Harry grinned broadly and set the letter down; that was unexpected and certainly most welcome. Though he did cringe a bit at Ron's assumption of his attending; it's not that he didn't mind going, he just would have preferred to be asked about things like that.

Sighing in a mixture of happiness and annoyance he picked up Hermione's much thicker letter. Slitting open the envelope almost reverently he pulled out two items, the first was the letter which he opened and began to read.

'Dear Harry

Happy birthday Harry! How are you? I know it must be horrid there, I'm sorry I haven't written sooner I've been negotiating with my parents about something for your birthday, and something to keep you out of harm's way (Or at least out of the human whale's way). I wondered what a good present for you could be, you're hard to shop for you know? You already have a broom and everything that could need, I know you don't appreciate food for birthdays and something tells me if I sent you a book you would just roll your eyes and set it aside, never to be read.

So here's my solution, tickets! Yes that's right, I bought you tickets, to a Muggle play. And guess what? You remember all that negotiating I mentioned? My parents, my god-fearing conservative dentist parents, have agreed to take you to said play, and then to stay with us for the rest of the holidays! Isn't that wonderful? We'll get to see each other so much sooner! And I can make sure you eat properly (Cunning grin). Well anyway, mum and dad will pick you up, not tomorrow (your birthday for me), but the day after that. It's the weekend then (As I'm sure you know, gosh sometimes I just…). And that's when the play is on, so I'll see you midday on the 31st okay?

Love you Harry  
>Yours truly<br>Hermione

PS. Hedwig seems to know when I'm writing to you, she always turns up to send you my letters. She's so sweet; give her an extra treat for me will you?'

Harry set the letter down, his heart racing. Spend the holidays with Hermione and her parents? Sold, done, where do I sign? He had a predicament though; Mr Weasley would be coming before that to take him to the Burrow for the holidays and the World Cup. Truth be told Harry could handle a summer without the red-headed clan, but the World Cup was just too good to pass up, thus his present quandary. Sitting down somewhat heavily at his desk Harry took the second item from Hermione's envelope into his hand; this wasn't a ticket. Rather it was a Muggle photograph of Hermione sitting under a tree somewhere reading. It was such a sweet innocent picture of his best friend that he couldn't help but smile broadly.

Turning the picture over he read the caption. 'Mum insisted I include this for you. She said something about your liking the view, whatever that means. Happy birthday again Harry!'

Harry smiled and turned the picture back over to look at his best friend; if he was honest he did enjoy the view. There was something enchanting about Hermione's smile, curled up into the trunk of the tree with her legs tucked under her. So beautiful, there was a twitch in his groin that was very… not friendly and Harry grinned before muttering into the darkness. "Thank you missus Granger!"

Something about that picture made his mind up and, setting the letter, envelope and picture down somewhat carefully on his battered desk he took up a quill and a piece of parchment and hastily penned a reply to Ron's letter.

'Ron mate

Sorry to be a bother but I'm not going to be here by then, Hermione invited me over for the holidays already and her mum is coming to pick me up this morning (As I write just past midnight…), can we coordinate some kind of pick of from her house later in the holidays for the cup? It's in August isn't it? Thanks anyway for the offer mate if we can work something out I'd love to go.

-Harry'

It was a small lie but he didn't mind; it would do the job and he could deal with the repercussions later. A part of him couldn't believe he was jeopardizing his chance to see the World Cup; the rest of him was wholly in support of this course of action. Hermione was more important than any broomstick, or game played on broomsticks. Last year taught him as much. His reply to Hermione was much longer.

'Dear Hermione

Thank you! First to say that to me today (Despite the fact that I read Ron's letter first, the prat totally forgot to mention it), it's fine though he probably had to keep the letter short so Pig could carry it. Anyway, I'd love to go to the play with you, you did forget to mention which one it was, but that's okay, I like being surprised by you. And the surprise when I read I could come stay with you for the holidays was huge! Of course I'll come! Thank you so much, there's a snag though, Ron's invited me to the Quidditch world cup with his family. I've penned a reply delaying him till the actual date (His father was going to pick me up today (The 30th)) to spend the holidays there, but honestly I'd rather be with you. That said the cup is a massive temptation, is there any way his dad could pick me up from your place on that weekend? And by the way, if you aren't invited too I'm not going, I want to spend this whole holiday with you. As for me? Well I'm not too bad. Uncle Vernon welcomed me home in his usual manner and I'm feeling a bit under the weather because of it, but your letter cheered me up immensely. How about you? How's my favourite young woman? And your folks? Tell me everything, you need to catch me up so I'm not behind in the times when I get there. Oh and thanks for that picture too, tell your mum I love the view, absolutely beautiful.

Love always  
>Yours,<p>

-Harry'

Satisfied with the legibility of his handwriting he slipped the letter back into the same envelope Hermione sent her letter in, and tapped it twice with his wand. The pair had gotten the envelope in the summer before second year; it was spelled between the two of them to be resealing and to have either his or Hermione's name as an addressee. That one envelope had carried hundreds of letters between the two of them over the last two years, but something in the pit of Harry's stomach knew that after this summer, it would never be used again. His letter to Ron went into a mundane envelope that he shrunk so that Pig could carry it, when the comatose bird finally woke up at any rate.

Hurrying to Hedwig he stroked her head before attaching the letter to her leg. He spoke in low tones to her. "This one's for Hermione girl, you know where to go, wait for a response okay? I'll have some treats for you when you get back."

His familiar gave a soft hoot of acknowledgment before winging out the newly-opened window. The draft of cold air from the young teen opening the window once more seemed to kick-start Pig again and he was almost instantly zooming around the room.

Effortlessly Harry snatched the bird out of the air and attached the small letter to his leg. "Go on then you stupid featherbrain, back to Ron."

With a grunt he tossed the small bird out the window to give him a boost, shut the window and promptly fell backwards onto his bed, giddy with happiness. He was going to see Hermione tomorrow, and then be in close proximity with her for the rest of the holidays. He didn't think this night could get any better. Quietly he picked up the picture of Hermione from his desk and propped it up against his bedside lamp. Lying on his side he looked at the photo of his best friend and couldn't help but feel happy. She just had that kind of an effect on him.

-:-

Some miles away in Oxford, the sender of Harry's new favourite letter was sitting up in bed, a loose nightgown on her slim form and a book in her hands. The light was on and her eyes were roving over the pages of one of her favourite novels. She was nervous, extremely so. She had just gotten a letter from Ron of all people inviting her to the Quidditch World Cup. She didn't even like Quidditch! Many people in Gryffindor thought she went to the matches because despite her fear of flying she quite liked the sport. The truth was that seeing Harry moving so gracefully through the air on his Nimbus, and later his Firebolt, was a huge turn-on for her. There was something incredibly masculine about the way the young seeker controlled the broom with impulses from his thighs and shoulders, but used his entire body to manoeuvre through the air, around other players, out of the way of bludgers. It sent tingles through her to watch him and she couldn't help but be happy for her best friend when he caught the snitch. She admitted that a part of her was also fiercely competitive and wanted to see Gryffindor beat the other houses, if only to see Harry's carefree grin as his team took home victory after victory. No small part of her turned up to make sure he was safe too, especially after the previous year. All of this however boiled down to one simple fact, she only really liked the sport when Harry was playing. But he wouldn't be playing in the World Cup. Hermione didn't even know if he would be going; was Ron using this as a kind of sly date?

She turned the page of her novel; she wasn't really reading the book but it was a nice cover if her mum or dad walked in. No questions would be asked of Hermione reading into the wee hours of the morning. But she was broken from her introspection as a loud tapping echoed through the room; Hedwig? She didn't expect the snowy owl back so soon.

Hastily getting out of bed and subconsciously tugging the hem of her brief nightgown back over her bum she opened the window to admit the large bird. When she saw the well-worn envelope her heart fluttered slightly; how would he reply? Had he been invited to the Cup? Would he even want to go to a play with her? She had nothing to fear of course, and upon reading the letter she let out a little sigh of happiness, he was so thoughtful. And he wanted to spend the summer with her? Even over the Cup? That sent tingles though her, the likes of which she could never imagine. Focusing a little harder she went back through the letter, looking for the hidden clues to his wellbeing that she knew he subtly, and probably subconsciously, left for her perusal and identification.

It didn't take long, Vernon welcomed him home? She winced, that sounded violent in the strange language of her best friend's clues, a bit under the weather? She winced again, his proclivity for downplaying his own discomfort was near legendary; he was in pain, probably a sight more than usual, though only God knew why his aunt and uncle abused him in such a manner. Her heart went out to the raven haired teen; she knew how hard life was for him and she wished she could make it easier. Her mind was set then, upon a decision. This would be the best holiday of his life. She would make sure of it.

She got down to the last few lines and blushed a deep crimson, so he liked the view did he? Her little white lie as to who sent the photo seemed to have paid dividends, if he liked that view she would be sure to make sure he got a glimpse of her nightwear… or maybe even more of a glimpse. Because the truth was that Hermione didn't see Harry as a friend, to her he was hers. And she was his; she just had to show him that. He could be a little thick sometimes, especially when it came to her, but she didn't hold that against him; the Dursleys had crippled his sense of self-worth and attractiveness, let alone his understanding of inter-personal relationships, not to mention romance.

She sighed, how could she not fall for him? His entrancing eyes, his beautiful smile, that roguish hair of his, all of that was a right tasty package; add that to his Quidditch honed physique and his engaging personality and how could a girl hope but to fall for the elegant, yet stumbling young man? She looked down at the letter in her hands and a wash of anger flowed over her; how could anyone hurt such a lovely young man? Let alone his flesh and blood. She swore that if she got her hands on those… Muggles, she wouldn't ever let them forget just how atrocious they had been to her man. She hastily penned back a letter for Harry, she was well aware of how much pain she was taking him away from, and intended to keep it that way. She also penned a letter to Ron and after a few minutes of coaxing, convinced Hedwig to take the letter as well. The snowy owl rarely posted letters between anyone other than her and Harry these days, and a selfish part of Hermione loved it that they had their own private messenger. But she needed to get the letter to Ron and sadly she didn't have an owl of her own.

Sitting back on her bed she looked at her book and considered picking it up to keep reading. But in truth she was too wired after reading Harry's letter. He had woken a part of her up that she kept under lock and key most of the time. The part of her that desperately wanted Harry next to her in her bed, his hands moving over her skin… No she wouldn't be getting sleep for a while yet. And besides, she needed to wait and see if he replied.

-:-

Further north a young red-headed man was sitting up in his own bed playing the umpteenth game of chess with himself. Many people treated him like an idiot; the truth was that he simply couldn't compare academically to his two best friends. While Harry was behind Hermione in grades, it was only just slightly and the two were top of their year. Most people overlooked Harry's grades simply because he didn't draw attention to them. Ron knew this full well but wasn't bothered. His strengths didn't lie in books or the raw power of Harry's will to succeed. No, his strengths lay in strategy and reading others. Hermione had once told him he would be excellent at a Muggle game involving some kind of cards. Poke-him? Something like that. He was smart enough for his own needs and left it at that. What he was not good with, was dates. He was appalling with them and frequently forgot birthdays, what month it was, etc. So the fact that it was Harry's birthday had flown past like so much chaff on the wind. Not to worry though, he had the perfect present for his friend. He and Hermione could finally spend a bit of time just unwinding together at the Cup. And the three of them (Ron included now) might be able to get rid of some of the stress of previous years before tackling whatever was in store for them in the school term approaching. A small furry missile rocketed through the open window and smashed into the chessboard, spraying pieces everywhere. Ron rolled his eyes and picked the small owl gingerly up from the ground.

After a brief struggle with the excitable bird he opened Harry's letter; what was inside made him both smile and frown. It was a good thing that Harry and Hermione could spend some time together; maybe he would finally cotton onto the same fact that everyone else in Hogwarts apparently knew but were too amused watching him blunder about to mention, that Hermione loved him. Ron still felt bitter about this, why Harry? He had always had anything Ron could ask for, that he didn't have; money, a fast broom, girls throwing themselves at him. But Ron knew that deep in his heart he had it better off than his best friend. He had a family, a home. He had love in his life. Harry was lonely, and bereft. It wasn't a fair trade and Ron would do anything to make it up to his best friend; if being with Hermione could do that for him then he wouldn't begrudge the young man his happiness. It wouldn't be a hassle for him to convince his dad to pick the pair of them up later in the holidays. Arthur was well aware of the unspoken feelings between Ron's friends and was in agreement with his youngest son. Harry deserved this; his mother would be a different story all together. She seemed fixated on making sure Harry was at his peak all the time, the fact that Hermione could assure that more easily than Molly ever could wasn't a consideration for the middle-aged witch.

He was surprised a few minutes later when Hedwig flew in through the window; hadn't Harry just sent him a letter? When he spotted the handwriting however he realized what had happened and after letting the snowy owl take a quick drink helped her out of his smaller window and let her wing away into the night with the other half of her cargo. The letter in his hands brought nothing he wasn't already expecting after Harry's letter; apologies for not being able to come earlier and the hope that they could still meet later for the World Cup and to catch up before school. Ron sighed listlessly; this was going to be a long summer with only a heartbroken Ginny to keep him company.

-:-

AN2: Sorry for the imperfections (I know they're there) this is my first formal fic and I've not got a beta reader for this. That said anyone who wants the job is quite welcome. I'll try and get updates up as often as possible but don't count on them being regular. I'm known for my bursts of creativity and will write in 5000 word chunks much like this one. Expect the chapters to be around this size or bigger each update. And for about 200-300 thousand words in total. I'm fairly certain I can manage that many over the course of this fic. Which I intend to cover fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year, as well as a couple of post Hogwarts years too. Maybe even more (but if I get that far I'll probably release the post Hogwarts details as a sequel.)

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time. Feel free to review etc. Like all authors I appreciate them but I get that not everyone is of the reviewing mind set. At the end of the day I'm writing this for my own enjoyment. If you get happiness out of it as a reader then I can't ask for more.

LGreymark


	3. The play

AN: Disclaimer as per usual, the first chapter was more of an introduction than anything else, you can expect the rest of the chapters to be around this length now that I don't feel constrained about what material I'm tackling. Onwards! For Views!

AN2: As I write this chapter it's becoming more and more an examination of the way Hermione thinks and her insights into the people in her life, although mostly just about Harry and how she perceives her plight. It's not where I was originally aiming this chapter to be focused but it is, I think, perfectly readable. It also lets me tackle my favourite character in the Potter universe and get inside her pretty little head.

AN3: A note on Hermione in this fic, as it probably won't come up in the narrative till later, but I feel it should be mentioned now. Emma Watson, bless her soul, is far too attractive to be Hermione Granger. JKR meant for Hermione to be a mostly plain girl, with no obvious attraction past her beautiful mind. My Hermione is much like that. Most people will only see the modest and unappealing bookworm. Only Harry sees past her 'look' in school robes and sees her for the natural beauty that she is under the frowns and chastisements. She's not busty, or curvy. Rather she has a wiry figure from years of walking up and down the stairs of Hogwarts. She doesn't have the usual 'assets' that teenage boys shoot for (Not literally, ew) rather she has a sort of simple beauty with her pale skin and even, symmetrical features. For those of you obsessed with size think a b cup when she's in her mid-teens.

-:-

Chapter Two: The Play

Harry awoke on the thirty-first in a bundle of pain. His back and shoulders had seized up in the night and he could barely move without lances of discomfort rushing through his aching muscles. His bed sheets were spotted with blood from several cuts on his back, several of which looked infected already. His arms were a rictus of cramps and tight agony. Simply lying in place was a difficult task as his chest was taut with stress and breathing was uncomfortable. The source of Harry's state was still asleep in such wee hours of the morning: Vernon Dursley. Harry had informed his uncle the day before that he would be leaving Little Whinging for the rest of the holidays the following noon. That had led to mixed results; on the one hand the Grunnings employee was ecstatic that his freak of a nephew would be out of the house for a further month. On the other hand his favourite stress release activity (beating his nephew) would quite obviously have to be put on hold. Fortunately for the rotund man a happy compromise could be reached where he simply thrashed Harry 'in advance' in a sort of sick payment for being allowed to leave.

So that then was where Harry had found himself with a new lattice of scars on his back and shoulders and a burning sensation in his arms where they had supported the weight of his body, tied to the lintel of the kitchen door. It hurt to move, and so the young man stayed still, thinking about the coming day. He was a riot of nerves; never mind the fact that he couldn't walk, how would Hermione's parents react when they saw him in Dudley's old cast-offs? How could he go to a play with his best friend in such garments? How about his… unnaturalness? They obviously knew Hermione was a witch but would her parents treat him the same way Vernon and Petunia did? It was all very confusing for the emerald-eyed teen. The thoughts swirled through his mind like the maw of Charybdis closing tighter on his fears of rejection, but this young man was made of sterner stuff then to be disabled by such nonsense. He could not change their reactions, but he could put his best foot forward and fix the issues that he could indeed fix. With a supreme effort of will he forced himself out of bed, hissing in shock as his muscles cramped painfully. First, a shower, then dressed, then ready to leave. He was already packed, so eager was he to leave the house where he was forced to live in the summer.

-:-

The young man took his showers in the mornings to deal with the issue of his relatives; they wouldn't take too well to his actually looking after himself, and so he showered while they were all asleep. He let the water run warm and locked the bathroom door. As the water heated he looked at himself in the vanity; a pale-faced and haggard young man looked back at him from the glass. His hair was mussed from sleep and there was caked blood on his neck where it had run down from the back of his head; Vernon wasn't overly accurate with his belt buckle.

After stripping down, Harry hissed as he stepped into the shower, the hot water burning on his cuts. It was a familiar feeling, somewhat like coming home. The cleansing sensation of his blood being washed from his skin harmonized with the feeling of relaxation as his cramped muscles began to unwind. It was then with a sense of peace that he washed himself, cleaning the matted clots in his hair and scrubbing his back and arms, wincing at the discomfort slightly but in the end only a lattice of shallow cuts was left. His chest fared better and was mostly untouched, but the worst hurt was the throbbing headache caused by the pain from the wound in the back of his neck. It was shallow, but like any head-space wound it bled freely and he had to resort to a plaster to cover it. Fortunately his hair would cover the sticky bandage; as for the paper/plastic evidence that covered the plaster in its stored state, he furtively folded it in half and poked it down the drain for the shower. He was about to leave the warm spray when he remembered who he was meeting today, and realized that this wasn't simply the daily ritual of cleansing the blood from his body, this was actually a time to get clean and smell good. It didn't take long to perform the ablutions he usually didn't bother with in Number Four, and he left the shower feeling much more human than he did going in. He dressed as well as he could; his tightest pair of jeans (still a size too large), done up with a ragged belt, and a button-down shirt that ended up mostly tucked into his jeans and was bunched at the back. Fortunately this kept it off the cuts further up and decreased his discomfort. Finally he pulled on the somewhat loose bomber jacket that was his only fitting possession. A pair of ratty socks and holey trainers completed the look.

All there was to do now was wait.

-:-

It was a two hour drive to Surrey from Oxford and despite having not even begun the journey yet, Hermione Granger couldn't wait to have finished it. She wanted to hug Harry and wish him his happy belated birthday. She wanted to make sure he was still alive and breathing, and make sure that he was still the same Harry she had left on Platform Nine and Three Quarters a month ago. If she was honest with herself, she wanted him to trap her with his eyes again like he did every time his bespectacled emerald irises met hers. She wanted her best friend back. But she was nervous; how would her parents react to seeing him? Admittedly Harry wasn't the scrawny and emaciated eleven–year-old she had met three years before. No, he was a filled-out and muscular Quidditch player now; the food at Hogwarts, his self-inflicted cardio runs around the Black Lake and his Oliver Wood-inflicted Quidditch training had turned him into a well-built and handsome young man. But his clothes were still those of an orphan, an urchin even. His bearing was still that of a frightened child, albeit one with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was not proud, or gregarious. He was quiet and subdued, two things Hermione loved about him, but it all screamed of the abuse he suffered on a daily basis.

She was nervous for her own sake too. How would he react to seeing her? Seeing him write his love to her made her heart flutter but how was it meant? Was she just his friend? Or was she more? Hermione snorted ungracefully; by the end of the summer there would be no bones about how Harry felt for her; she would make sure of that. Book-smart she may be, but living in a dorm room with several other teenaged girls taught a girl a thing or two about seduction, and what was seduction but a careful exploitation of the feelings Hermione knew Harry already had for her somewhere in that titanic golden heart of his? A wry grin touched upon her face as she considered what his reaction would be to her when he saw her in Muggle clothing. Robes were unflattering no matter which way you twisted it, but Muggles had long ago learned the secret of well-fitting clothes for men and women, and she would make sure that Harry was well aware of exactly how well-fitting those clothes could be by the end of the day.

After a long warm shower and a touch more time than usual sorting out her hair and makeup Hermione was about ready to go. Her eagerness however meant that she was ready about an hour early. Grimacing slightly she decided to spend the time getting a room ready for Harry; usually when guests were over they were told to pick one of the three spare bedrooms in the Grangers' moderately large house. But Hermione wasn't going to take the chance he would pick a room on the other side of the second floor; rather, she put bed linens on the bed in the room across from her own. Half an hour later she was grinning slyly while reading her novel; his room was close enough to her own that if he had one of the night terrors Ron had told her Harry suffered from, Hermione could be there almost instantly to comfort him. Finally her parents called her to the car, they were about to head to Surrey, to Harry.

-:-

A two hour car ride was a fantastic time for Daniel and Emma Granger to grill their daughter about Harry Potter. They had refrained from doing so until then so as to get everything out of the way at once. When they were well under way, Emma turned around in the front seat and looked at Hermione with the same crafty grin her daughter had been wearing earlier.

"So tell me about Harry sweetheart."

She nearly laughed at the look of understanding that passed over her daughter's face, and the respect for the trap the two elder Grangers had pulled. She blushed slightly although Emma could only guess at why, before replying.

"He's quiet, and respectful. You'll both like him."

Emma laughed slightly at Hermione's reserved response. "And what grade do you think you would get for that answer in a test sweetheart? Details, give me details. We have a long drive ahead of us and I plan to extract every morsel of information from you. And don't think me above tickle torture if you won't cooperate."

Hermione smiled ruefully before responding, "I'd probably fail, alright… He's sweet, he takes time out of his day to help me and be around me even when he knows there're other things he could be doing. You remember him from the summer before second year in Diagon alley?"

Emma nodded. "Small boy, black hair, green eyes, hand me down clothes."

Hermione smiled before a blush rose to her cheeks. "Yes that was Harry. He's filled out a great deal since then; all the exercise he does has toned him into a handsome young man."

Dan clucked his tongue from the front seat. "Trust you to spot that sweetheart."

Hermione blushed harder, but she wasn't in the habit of lying to her parents. "How could I not? I spend a fair portion of every day at school with him. Then he goes and does silly little sweet things for me, like opening doors or getting me little gifts. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it but he does do it."

Emma looked on with a certain amount of fondness for her daughter. "And how exactly do you feel about this chivalrous young man, who we are letting so graciously into our home?"

Hermione looked her mother in the eye before replying, "I think I love him mum. He's lovely and sweet, but he's also been through an awful lot and I want to be there for him every day. Mostly so that he knows that there's at least one person in this world who loves him."

Emma looked on confused. "But surely his relatives love him, his cousin? Surely his aunt, they share his mother as a common relative, right? Don't they at least love him?"

Hermione felt her eyes prickling at this, angry tears building behind them. "No, no they don't love him. He's hinted to me before that they abuse him mum, the uncle especially. Last year when we were pulling on our robes on the train into school, Harry had taken his jacket off and I saw the back of his shirt. Blood had seeped through in a variety of places."

Her tears started to flow at this point and Emma reached back in the small car to give her daughter an awkward hug. "Don't worry, we'll not do that to him, he's safe with us."

Hermione cried softly into her mum's embrace for a few seconds before pulling away. "If we're airing all of this we might as well talk about the other things he has to deal with."

Emma and Dan glanced at each other; abuse was bad enough but 'other things' sounded ominous.

Hermione continued as if she hadn't seen them. "Since our first year at school he's had to deal with people staring at him, he's a bit of a celebrity in our world as, and no one knows how, but as he managed to defeat You-Know-Who as a baby."

Emma looked confused, "No I'm sorry sweetheart I don't know who."

Hermione chuckled before taking a deep breath to explain. "Sorry, about thirty years ago a man by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle, a wizard, styled himself as the newest dark lord, and took the name Vol… Vol…" She took another deep cleansing breath and shuddered before saying the name,  
>"Voldemort, who because of the terror he inflicted everyone refers to as 'You-Know-Who' or 'He–Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. It's really not that big of a deal to be honest when you consider that it's just a name. Anyway, Voldemort tried to kill Harry as a baby, and don't ask me why I don't know, but somehow he failed and was destroyed, freeing the wizarding world from the clutches of a blood war. This of course made Harry the 'Boy Who Lived' and other such nonsense and he's seen as a bit of a superstar. He hates it of course, and tries to avoid it all, but his fame does horrible things to him sometimes."<p>

Emma looked at Dan with a firm expression; Dan had been about to say something and she didn't want to spook Hermione who seemed to be in her rhythm now.

Hermione continued, "The year before last, people were being attacked at the school by some kind of creature; this was apparently being released into the school by the 'Heir of Slytherin.' Now the symbol of Slytherin is a serpent, as he was a parseltongue; it's a rare power that only wizards seem to possess that allows the wizard in question to talk to serpents. Because it's so rare and the only historically important person who had ever had the power was Slytherin himself, it's seen as a piece of dark magic to be able to use. Harry, naturally, has this ability, and it was thought for the longest time that he was the next dark lord. Having overthrown Voldemort as a child he was now stepping into the spotlight to take his place. It was sickening really, and I hate what it did to him that year. Regardless, he's had to deal with people looking at his scar all his life and if there's one thing you can do to help it's not look at it. Just ignore that it exists, he's very skittish about the whole thing."

Emma looked concerned. "His scar sweetheart? But we can get him help for that…"

Hermione cut her off. "Not for this you can't, it's a scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt; it was inflicted on him by the same curse that rebounded to kill Voldemort when Harry was a child. Apparently everything has been tried to remove it."

Dan chuckled from the front seat, "You certainly know how to pick them sweetheart."

Hermione blushed again. "Well, he does deserve to be happy, and he makes me happy. I don't see why there's a problem with me loving him."

Emma leaned back again and stroked her daughter's hair. "There's nothing wrong sweetheart, just let him know how you feel, and why. It will do him a world of good."

Hermione smiled wanly. "I will mum, thanks for being so understanding. You too dad."

Dan piped up then, "You're welcome sweetheart. Now what was this about second hand clothes?"

Hermione winced; she knew this would come up eventually. "Well, as his relatives don't really care about him, he's never had anything bought for him; he just wears whatever his fat brutish cousin is finished with. Even his best fitting clothes are too big for him by a size or three."

Dan shook his head slowly. "They won't let him into the theatre like that." He looked contemplative for a moment before glancing at his wife; she nodded quickly with a smile. Emma knew what her husband was thinking and agreed.

Dan continued, "Tell you what, it's his birthday right? We'll buy him an outfit as a present."

Hermione's eyes widened and she smiled in thanks to her father. "Thank you dad; that will mean the world to him to actually own some clothes of his own." She got that same crafty grin on. "And I'll thank you for putting him in something that shows of those lovely Quidditch muscles."

Emma laughed at her daughter. Hermione might spend her days buried in books but she was still a red blooded woman, and she still thought like one. She glanced across at her husband and sneakily admired his army built physique. No, she couldn't blame her daughter for thoughts like that at all.

-:-

Harry was waiting in his room when the doorbell rang. He tried to get down the stairs faster than his uncle could get to the front door from the living room but it was to no avail. The rotund man yanked open the door with a somewhat cruel smile on his face; what greeted him was more than he bargained for. The six-and-a-half-foot tall Dan Granger, heavily muscled from his years in the army during the Falklands created the imposing image of someone who wouldn't be bullied. Vernon took the defensive immediately.

"Whatever madness you think I've done the freak did it. He's the unnatural one in this house."

Dan didn't take kindly to that but simply walked past the shorter man looking up the stairs to the slightly shell-shocked Harry, smiling up at him the older man introduced himself.

"Hi there, I'm Hermione's dad. C'mon down, son; let me take a look at you."

Harry nervously levitated his trunk with his wand in one hand and held his broomstick and Hedwig's cage in the other. Once he was level with the floor Vernon realized how he was lifting his trunk and immediately moved forwards out of habit to 'beat the unnaturalness out of him'. Harry shrunk back instinctively but was stopped from needing to when Dan moved forward and grabbed Vernon's wrist.

"You'll not beat a child in my presence, Mr. Dursley. I don't know what kind of household this is but you had better hope I never see that again, else I'll personally call the police here and they can sort you out. I hear prison has excellent hospitality for people who abuse kids."

Vernon paled visibly before stepping back, shaking like a leaf. If Harry hadn't been so nervous he might have laughed at the undulating motions his belly was making, like little waves.

"Get out of my house then, and take the freak with you."

Harry was only too happy to oblige and was out of the door before Dan could say anything; when it was shut behind the both of them Dan took Harry's trunk in hand and then proffered his own for Harry to shake.

"Dan Granger, it's good to finally meet you Harry."

Harry took the man's hand and shook it firmly. "Good to meet you too, sir." He paused slightly before angrily swiping his fringe out of his eyes. "Thank you sir, for what you did." He blushed and looked down at his shoes, nervous to say the wrong thing. That had traditionally been followed by the harsh bite of Vernon's belt.

Dan sighed softly before pointing Harry to the car; 'issues' was right. This kid needed serious time with someone who cared about him, and what better place than right next to his daughter?

"Don't think about it son. Hop in the car, we've got a bit of shopping to do in London first then we'll head back to Oxford for the play okay?"

Harry nodded eagerly and started towards the car; after helping Dan put his trunk in the boot along with his broomstick, and surprisingly Hedwig's cage as well, as it could fit upright in the tall boot of the hatchback, Harry climbed into the passenger side of the back seat. Instantly he was enveloped in a tight hug.

Chuckling he wrapped his arms around Hermione and held her close, he smiled when he heard her say quietly into his shoulder.

"I missed you Harry, Happy birthday."

He squeezed her briefly, ignoring the sting in his back, before releasing her; he got a surprise however when she kissed his cheek as she backed away, blushing. Clearing the sudden tightness in his throat with a cough he asked blithely, "How've you been Hermione? I hope the trip wasn't too long."

She shook her head and Harry saw her smile. "I've been good, better with you here now away from those people." The sound of disgust in her voice was evident and the young man felt buoyed by her support. "As for the trip, it was a couple of hours, but mum and dad made sure it wasn't boring."

Harry saw Dan grin from the front of the car as he pulled out into the road; he remembered something the older man had said. "What shopping did you need to do in London?"

He was surprised when the smile got bigger, "Well we were thinking that for your birthday we could buy you a new outfit as a present. Hermione mentioned that you don't get new clothes often and we thought you'd appreciate some that fit you properly."

Harry didn't rightly know how to reply to that, and a stab of conflicting emotions ran through him. On the one hand they clearly disapproved of his attire and all the insecurities from the morning rushed back. On the other hand they seemed not to blame it on him and weren't making a big deal about it. As for how they treated him, well he already had a great deal of respect for Dan, but Emma hadn't said anything yet and it was making him nervous.

Realizing he was sitting there like a drunken fish he cleared his throat again and responded, "Thank you, that would be a wonderful gift." He paused slightly, "I don't suppose we could stop at Diagon Alley, could we? I'd like to go to Gringotts to get some money out for the holidays and I thought that if we're going to London anyway it might not be so much of a hassle to do it all at once."

Harry saw Emma and Dan share a look; he glanced over at Hermione and he saw the support in her eyes, and something deeper that made his heart leap slightly, though he knew not why. He felt her hand worm its way into his and their fingers lace together. The grin that erupted on his face was totally genuine as his heart leapt in his chest again.

He was snapped back to the present by Emma's voice. "What about you sweetheart? We could get some of your books and things early this year, and you'll want some Magical money for the World Cup too, won't you?"

Hermione nodded happily. "That would be great, thanks mum. I need to get some more parchment too. Our spelled envelope doesn't seem to like the printer paper or lined paper you got me. It refuses to go in."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that; he had never considered trying to use Muggle paper or writing utensils for letters. But it seemed that wizards were even more paranoid than he thought if even spelled envelopes rejected the Muggle world.

Emma spoke again breaking him from his reverie. "Well that settles it; we can go there first and sort everything out before going shopping." She shot a look at Hermione, "Maybe there're some other things you kids want to get as well?"

Harry looked askance at Hermione, who blushed bright crimson before replying, "I grew out of my swimsuits during last term. I'll need to get some new ones if we want to go swimming this summer and I had thought maybe you'd like at least one pair of swimmers too."

Harry looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I don't really know how to swim."

Hermione's hand tightened in his briefly and he looked up at her. She said, "It's okay, I can teach you."

Harry thought for a moment; he trusted Hermione to keep him safe in the water and that was all he needed. "Okay then, sure."

They were in the outskirts of London now and Emma suddenly turned around in her seat to look at Harry.

"So tell me about your holiday so far Harry. How has it been for you?"

Harry flinched visibly at the question and tried obviously to change the topic; he felt Hermione's hand tighten in his again and a slight tremble run through him from her.

"It's been fine, what about you? How's your practice?"

Emma was apparently having none of that however and kept going. "I know you don't have the best home environment with those people Harry. I'm not trying to hurt you, and I just want to know how I can help."

Despite her words Harry was weary; despite all of the good in his life at school, friends and even teachers who cared about him, he had very little experience with Muggles. And the experience he did have was not favourable. It wasn't really a rational fear, but he was still worried that the Grangers would turn on him and beat him just like Vernon had. And frankly, if Dan beat him, it would hurt a whole world more than what Vernon could manage; those thin cuts would become gaping wounds with no real effort on the older man's part. Even Hermione's happiness wasn't enough to truly comfort him; yes she was a happy, healthy well-adjusted girl. But then, Dudley was happy too. Maybe not healthy or well-adjusted but that was a different story altogether. What tipped it was the expression on Emma's face; he saw there the same concern about him that he saw in Hermione whenever he was hurt. It was genuine, it was sincere.

Harry's shoulders slumped from their defensive position and he hung his head. "Honestly? Not great; I usually try to stay out of their way, and even the threat of my mass-murdering godfather coming to deal to them if they hurt me hasn't curbed Vernon." He saw Emma's eyes go wide at that and for the first time since the start of the conversation Harry laughed.

"Don't worry about Sirius, he's innocent, but that doesn't mean that the Dursleys needed to know that. As far as the public is aware Sirius Black is a killer; you might have seen his face on the telly last year? I know better though, he was framed."

He saw Emma relax and chuckled again before becoming solemn and continuing, "It's not even like I can owl Sirius and get him to come help; knowing him he would do something that he could be imprisoned for if he caught wind I was being abused. And I don't want him to go back to that place." He sighed slightly, "I've been coping, I wash the cuts and keep myself as well rested as possible. But there's only so much I can do on the rations I'm given. Only so much I can heal each day before he reopens the cuts."

He had never opened up like this before; a sharp squeeze from Hermione's hand got his attention and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Without a word he pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms for a hug. Almost immediately he felt his shoulder go damp as she cried softly against him. Her smaller hands balled into fists against his chest. Glancing up he saw Emma's eyes weren't tear so much as fiery with anger. Harry's first reaction and his strongest one was self-preservation and he flinched back from that look.

But the woman's eyes softened as she spoke. "I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I just…" She glanced at her husband, who Harry now saw had his jaw set and was clenching the wheel of the car so hard his knuckles were white. Emma continued; "I've never been able to really get my head around the idea of someone doing that to a child, let alone to their own flesh and blood. It's despicable." She gave him a strange look. "I'll take a look at your cuts tonight if you like and disinfect them for you."

Harry ducked his head against Hermione's, who was still wrapped in his embrace, he felt his own tears of gratitude prickling against his eyelids. "That would be appreciated, thank you Missus Granger."

He heard her laugh softly and looked up to hear her say to her husband, "How old does that make me sound Dan? Lord above Harry, you don't need to stand on ceremony with us…" She put a hand to her mouth in shock, "Oh my gosh, I haven't introduced myself yet have I? I'm so sorry, you probably figured out that I'm Hermione's mum but my name is Emma and I'd like you to call me that. And this big lump," she slapped Dan's shoulder playfully, "is Dan, okay? No sirs, no Mister and Missus Granger, its Dan and Emma."

Harry looked up, a little shy, but thankful for their inclusion into the family unit even in such a small way.

"Okay, Emma, I'll do my best to remember that."

-:-

They pulled into a public parking lot near Charing Cross Road where Diagon Alley was located behind the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione got out of the car and stretched luxuriously; she'd been cooped up for nearly three hours and felt the need to stretch her legs. Fortunately they had some time, as the play wasn't until seven that evening. Taking into account the shorter travel time to get home from London, if they left at around four they should get back in plenty of time to go to the play. That meant Hermione had four hours with Harry as they could wander around the stores.

Emma and Dan headed off to find somewhere to eat lunch while the two teens went into the magical alley. Sadly, without a Hogwarts or Ministry representative present they couldn't enter the magical site and above all Hermione thought that was a tragedy. The magical world of Britain was so closed-off from its Muggle neighbours that they even refused to allow parents of Muggleborns to enter their most populated shopping centre.

As she finished stretching she felt a shock of tingles rush up her as Harry took her hand; she grinned up at him and even he looked a little surprised at his actions. She noted then just how tall Harry had gotten in the month of them being apart. He had shot up another three inches at least and was now nearly head-and-shoulders taller than she was. Hermione it seemed had taken after her mother in the height department and both were petite women. It didn't seem to bother Harry though as they began walking in his long easy stride.

Somewhere the previous year when they had realized just how different their stride length was while walking around the lake between various arguments, Harry had offered to shorten his strides so as to let her keep up but in the end he had just ended up tripping over himself. It never ceased to amuse Hermione how he could be so graceful on a broom, but put him on his own two feet and ask him to do something unfamiliar and he would be on his face fast as an eye blink. So instead Hermione had simply gotten used to walking with quicker paces. It was slightly awkward at first, but she had loved what it had done for her legs and even with the height and gait differences they managed to enjoy holding hands.

It was strange for her though. Usually she was the one to initiate physical contact, hugs, hand holding, kisses on the cheek, and things like that. But not only had Harry hugged her in the car, very intimately she might add, now he was holding her hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world; her heart was nearly bursting with happiness. Not only was she getting him away from those horrid relatives, and her eyes still watered slightly at the thought of the abuse they had ladled upon their nephew, she had also, somehow, managed to snag his attention as more than a simple friend, if their hand holding was anything to go by.

They talked little as they walked, it was a calm and easy camaraderie that they had and it needed no words to fill the gaps. Many times across their three years they had simply just enjoyed being close to one another in such a friendly and comfortable way. Their hands parted as they entered the small pub; the Leaky Cauldron was too cluttered for hand-holding to be practical. The barman Tom greeted Harry warmly but his eyes slipped past her as if she didn't exist. Part of her, deep in the back of her mind, felt really saddened by the lack of care anyone in the wizarding world had for Muggleborns. She was a second or even third-class citizen, and she knew it. Harry had no idea of this of course and she had no idea how to broach the topic with him, or even if she should. He had so much to worry about already she didn't really think it fair to lump her own worries onto him. But then again, who could she talk to? Ginny? The girl was as pure-blooded as they came; she might not be openly bigoted but she still saw Muggles as beneath her, or as less than human, viewing them with a sort of fascination that one would attribute to a strange animal. The whole Weasley family was like that; Arthur didn't help things with his obsessive collection of mundane items like the feathers from exotic birds or pressed leaves in a scrapbook. No there would be no understanding from that family.

And really, who else was there? Between Ron and Harry she had all she needed, a firm and joking friend in the form of Ron, and a close and intimate relationship with Harry that she hoped, and planned, to become so much more. Ginny of course filled her need for someone female to talk to whenever that urge arose. And her parents, while supportive, could never really understand the issues she was going through. They had lived privileged lives in the Muggle world as middle-class white citizens of Britain. No doors were closed to them, or at least none that mattered to their careers. Harry on the other hand was, ironically, a perfect candidate to talk to. He had been shunned all his life, and as sad as that was it meant that he would understand her plight better than anyone else outside of another Muggleborn, maybe even more so because he knew her so well. She sighed softly at the thought of sharing everything with Harry. He would be so supportive and wonderful; despite all his own troubles he would drop everything to be there for her. It was a wonderful feeling to have him love her so much, even if he didn't know it himself.

She was shaken from her musings as they reached Gringotts, slightly surprised that she had managed to miss walking through the entire alley deep in her thoughts. She was happy to find however that their hands were again joined. She wondered who had initiated that contact; did she do it subconsciously or did Harry enjoy the touch enough to search it out again? Sadly they parted hands once more as they entered; this was Hermione's doing, as the goblins had strange customs and she didn't want them to assume anything and put Harry on the spot.

They approached a teller's desk and soon they were whisked down deep into the bowels of the earth on one of the many mine carts that the Goblins used as a travel method. She had to admit that despite the helter-skelter nature of the trip it was quite fun, especially as it gave her an excuse for watching Harry's smiling face. She loved seeing him so happy. And the feeling of near weightlessness must have been similar to how it felt for him to fly.

Harry collected a small bag of Galleons and tucked it into his day bag. The heavy coins, while not made of pure gold, were still a pain to carry around in one's pocket. Hermione initially protested as Harry pressed several coins into her hands but he overrode her.

"I know you don't get a lot of Magical money to spend, buy something for yourself, my treat. You've got me away from the Dursleys for a full month to spend it with my favourite person in the world; consider this my thanks."

Hermione's heart broke a little as she realized that she probably was quite literally the most important person in his life. His parents were dead, he barely knew his godfather, and while he was friends with Ron his bond with Hermione was much tighter. She closed her eyes and pulled him into a hug, trying not to cry at the injustice of his life. She would do this for him, even if it really was just doing something for herself. It would make him happy; it was worth it.

They made their way to her vault and Harry politely waited outside as she gathered some of her own coins to be stored until the World Cup, and a few more to buy the regular books, such as the next standard book of spells and the usual Transfiguration and Charms texts. Herbology, Potions and DADA would have to wait until the letter came. Arithmancy and Runes rarely used textbooks as they were rather expensive. Instead the school kept a supply of the texts in the library for students to peruse and teachers were expected to have notes ready for students for class.

Harry changed them both some Muggle currency and overrode Hermione's protestations again by reminding her of everything she had done for him. She finally acquiesced when he promised to let her buy them lunch sometime.

Getting their books didn't take long and they both needed new writing supplies so they gathered those while they were in the area as well. Harry picked up a broom servicing kit as well. Eeylops and the Magical Menagerie both got a visit as Harry and Hermione both got some owl treats for Hedwig and Hermione got some kneazle biscuits for Crookshanks. The large charmed-weightless bag of food was essential as the orange fur ball refused to eat food prepared by Muggles. It often hurt Hermione how callous her cat was but it was just yet another reminder that magic refused to mix with the Muggle world. Even the animals were biased. Fortunately at school Crookshanks was more than content hunting on the grounds for his meals or eating food prepared by the house elves, though she usually didn't feed him table scraps as the Hogwarts food was far too decadent for any cat on a regular basis.

Finally the two got back out into Muggle London to find her parents. Their purchases were shrunk and charmed feather-light into simple plastic bags that the Leaky Cauldron provided for camouflage's sake; Tom hired a Muggleborn wizard to help in his shop and the young man had provided the free of charge service to do his part for the Statute of Secrecy. It didn't take long to find Hermione's parents; they were in a small café near the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron chatting away.

Hermione looked at Harry with a happy smile. It had been wonderful wandering around with him that afternoon and talking together as they always had. He was always respectful of her and even when they argued he took a comfortable tone and calmly pointed out his side of the discussion. It was such a far cry from the way Ron argued with her that she couldn't help but laugh. If the two of them had spent the day together Ron would have probably sent her off in angry tears.

It was a sad thing to think about but Harry really was the glue that held the friends together. Without him there wouldn't be a friendship between Hermione and Ron and she couldn't be more thankful to him that he had brought the three of them together. While Hermione might not argue well with Ron, his antics and sense of humour were a delightful and refreshing experience in the normally sombre wizarding world. His dry sarcasm had more than once brought the other two down into fits of laughter.

She thought about the twins then; one couldn't think of humour and not have their faces come to mind. The quintessential tricksters were marauders in all but name and it made her happy to see their pranks. It was an interesting contrast between them and Ron. They were the closest male siblings in age out of the six Weasley sons, but they were so different. Ron was a deep thinker in his own way, and while not book smart, could still hold his own in a discussion, especially when there was something to be investigated. He was brave and his dry humour was as attested a wonder. The twins were a different story; their humour was boundless and it ruled their lives, but that wasn't a bad thing. They were intelligent in their own right, similar to the way Ron was insightful (although emotionally quite dense); the twins were prodigies. But despite it all, despite the rogue-like charm of the twins or Ron's comforting humour and insight, Harry was the one she gravitated towards, was the one who she told her secrets to and whose secrets she knew. She could never understand what the attraction was to 'The Boy Who Lived'; Harry Potter was nothing like that arrogant individual.

They approached her parents and greeted them warmly. Harry was quiet and reserved as normal but had a wide smile on his face that made his eyes seem to sparkle. Hermione had to be careful not to be lost in those eyes, despite the fact that she would love for nothing more than the chance to do just that. Dan stood up to help Hermione with her bags and Emma shared a sly grin with her daughter over the look on her face. The young woman's mother was well aware of her daughter's love for the rakishly handsome boy they had accepted, even temporarily, into their home and their lives. That said, she privately hoped that Hermione would invite the boy to spend the entire summer with them the next year. She hated the idea of him going back to those awful people. Deciding to be bold Hermione tugged Harry down into a seat next to her and held his hand in both of hers in her lap, stroking the back of it with her thumb. It was a small gesture really but by the smile on his face she knew she had done the right thing. Especially when he stammered slightly when asked how their day had gone.

"W- well thanks Emma. Hermione and I got everything we needed, and know about so far.

Hermione saw her mother grin and inwardly groaned in anticipation.

"Ready for some more shopping?"

-:-

Harry was bewildered, totally and without reserve. He had no idea where he was in the maze of shops Emma had near dragged him into as Hermione and her father were shooed off into another part of the department store. They were currently in an upmarket men's clothing store looking into the outfit for Harry. Emma had originally planned only to get him some jeans and a shirt, similar to what he was wearing then. But the more time she spent with him the more she realized what having a snappy outfit could do for his self-esteem. She'd decided a simple white button-down shirt and slacks would be perfect for him, with some new shoes, socks and a tie. He offered to pay for the jacket himself which was much more expensive. When they were finished he looked the part; he was dressed well and simply being dressed well made him feel much better about himself. His clothes fit for the first time in his life and it was incredibly liberating. He thanked Emma profusely and the pair of them headed to the cafeteria where they had agreed to meet with Hermione and Dan. On the way they chatted amicably (Harry now back in his old clothes if only to keep his new set clean for later). He listened intently as the older woman talked about her and Dan's dental practice.

When they met up with the other two Hermione quirked an eyebrow in his direction; he grinned and sat down next to her. Knowing exactly what she was going to ask, he said, "Nope, you're not seeing it till tonight, Miss Granger."

Huffing, she simply took his hand and squeezed gently, her warm smile giving him a burst of satisfaction.

"I'll just have to wait then. What about me? You've not said anything about how I look."

Harry was taken aback by the direct question, but then realized that he'd not even looked at what she was wearing, so entranced was he by her face all day. He took the time now to look and was immediately blushing, their proximity meant that the first thing his eyes rested on was her chest. He noted with a touch of pleasure that her tight, light blue t-shirt was giving him an eyeful. He forced his gaze lower, conscious of her parents, especially her father, at the table and realized for the first time that she was wearing a skirt that, when standing, would drop just below her knees. His throat was dry at the sight of the porcelain quality of the skin on her calves. Even her feet were mostly visible in a pair of strappy sandals. He hastily looked up to see her grinning maddeningly. He looked down at his lap, a blush still blooming on his cheeks and neck.

"You look wonderful Hermione. School robes have never done you justice."

He glanced up again to see her smiling and she squeezed his hand supportively.

"Thank you Harry. It's nice to hear that from you."

Harry squeezed her hand back before looking up to see both of her parents rolling their eyes. Emma recovered first and asked the table at large, "Alright anyone want something to eat?"

Dan shook his head, having already eaten lunch, but Harry and Hermione were both feeling a bit hungry. It was just after three so they had a little time to eat before they had to head back to Oxford. The pair looked at each other before nodding and picking something from the menu above the counter.

Harry piped up as Dan went to get their food. He was a little shy asking, but he had felt really good wearing the suit jacket and sharp clothes, mostly just because they fit well and he felt the need to hold himself better. "I don't suppose there's any chance of me doing some shopping this summer to replace more of my wardrobe? I really liked wearing that outfit earlier and having some clothes that actually fit me would be really nice."

He felt a gentle squeezing on his hand again and the familiar sensation of Hermione rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. He smiled at her, appreciative of her touch.

Emma thought about it for no more than a second before easily agreeing, "That shouldn't be a problem. I don't mean to sound rude but as long as you pay for the clothes themselves I don't think either I or Dan would have an issue with helping you in that regard. We'll do what we can to help you Harry."

The young man was a little overwhelmed by the obvious support in Emma's voice and words. He barely knew these people, but they were so eager to help him.

-:-

For her part Hermione knew exactly why her parents wanted to help the young man she so adored. Part of it was her parents' innate need to help people, ironically similar to Harry's own 'saving people thing' that had caused her so much consternation over the last couple of years. That said, his 'saving people thing' was the reason she was here today to think about it and talk to him. So maybe she shouldn't complain.

On the other hand it was so hard not to help Harry. He had an air of leadership about him that drew people in and made them want to do what he asked. She knew that her parents were well under this influence, and she knew she fully was. If she were honest with herself it was kind of sexy. That entire collection of things aside he was so polite it was hard to turn him down. She stifled a giggle at the thought of what an impolite Harry would be like; she couldn't imagine what kind of monstrous event would have to happen to take that core tenet of his being away from him.

As she watched him and her mum chat about this and that she couldn't help but let out a little happy sigh, without even realizing it he had taken her hand in both of his and was toying with one of her fingers gently. It was a wonderful feeling to have him be this touchy with her even if he didn't rightly know why himself. She yearned to reach across the table and kiss his cheek, even just touch it with her other hand. The urge to be close to him was nearly overwhelming. She was relieved when her father came back with the food they had requested and the pair started eating.

Hermione watched Harry as he ate. It was so painfully obvious that he was trying to be polite about it but she could see how hungry he was. A stab of anger shot through her at his treatment at the hands of the Dursleys. She reaffirmed her decision there and then, to make this the best and most fulfilling holiday of his life, even if she had to go out of her way on a daily basis to make him happy. It would be enough for her, she thought, that he was simply around her and enjoying himself.

-:-

The car ride home was quiet and Dan was happy for the peace, it gave him time to mull over his thoughts. He didn't have his wife's amazing ability to organize her thoughts and talk to people at the same time. Harry… he was perhaps the most downtrodden young man that Dan had ever met. So timid and shy, yet he had a sense of character and strength about him that defied belief. It must have been strong, he thought, to create such a deep relationship with his daughter. Dan was not a jealous father, or an overly protective one. He fully believed in letting Hermione make her own mistakes and learning from them, giving her advice when he thought she needed it along the way. He and Emma had instilled in her from a young age a desire to understand her situation. To research it and gather all the information that she could, whether it be from books or people. To both his and his wife's delight she had surpassed their wildest dreams and had matured into a wonderfully bright and well-read girl who clearly still had the emotional clout to rein in the powerful young man sitting next to her in the backseat. The fact that she was a witch never factored in for Dan or Emma. She was still their daughter; so what if she was learning about charms and magical formulae while other kids her age were learning mathematics and science?

Her burgeoning relationship with Harry, although to Dan's eyes Hermione was clearly much more aware of how deep their relationship already was, was a source of no small joy for Dan. Harry had his faults certainly. He was shy, and timid, a little skittish perhaps, and definitely had self-image issues. But what teenager didn't? So he might have some harsher issues to overcome than other boys his age, did that mean he wasn't worth it? Absolutely not. Despite his horrific upbringing Harry was a real charmer. He had Hermione and Emma already wrapped around his little finger, but despite all that the boy didn't have an ounce of malice or bigotry in him. From what they had talked about in the car Harry came from a fairly long line of wizards. Stretched back almost to Merlin's time on the Potter side of things apparently and yet for the last four generations his fathers and grandfathers had, except for one, all married Muggleborn witches. So he had no issues that Harry would have a bigoted heritage to live up to. And it was very clear to Dan that Harry loved his daughter. They were thick as thieves and if the hand holding was anything to go by the young boy didn't mind that a single bit. No, he could support Hermione's decision here.

What he struggled with slightly however, were the boy's relatives. There were no two ways around it, they abused him, brutally. And while he didn't know the exact details he had a fair idea as to why.

Looking back at the pair of teens (Emma was driving the return trip), both wrapped up in their own little world as they exchanged glances and small bursts of comfortable conversation he mentally sighed. The young man was Hermione's best shot at happiness, and if he was fair she was probably Harry's best shot too. Dan squared his shoulders and asked the one question he hadn't gotten a satisfactory answer for.

"Harry, if you don't mind, can I ask you something a bit private?"

The young man looked understandably wary, but after sharing a small glance with Hermione nodded slowly.

"I know it's hard for you to discuss such things, and so I can understand why you never told anyone about what you have to deal with at home. But why did you end up there in the first place? Surely your parents would have had provision for you to live somewhere else if something happened to them? It was wartime after all for magical folk."

-:-

Harry's back went up slightly at the mention of his parents but after thinking for a second he really had no answer to Dan's question. He would of course have lived with Sirius had Peter not framed him. But did his mum and dad really choose Petunia and Vernon as their next choice for his guardianship? He couldn't believe that they were ignorant to Vernon's views, and if they were, why did they trust their baby with people they barely knew?

A small movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Hermione's shoulders were shaking slightly; alarmed, he turned her face to his to see an angry expression there and tears glistening in her eyes. He started to recoil from the look, having been on the receiving end of her shouts more than once, but her hands held him fast as they closed over his. A cold whisper was the only thing that came from her.

"Dumbledore."

Harry's mind went blank, wondering how Dumbledore could be responsible, and then it clicked. The old man had left Harry on number four Privet Drive's doorstep, in a blanket, in the middle of winter. While that was bad enough he hadn't even had the decency to do some research into who he was leaving Harry with or even check up on him. He closed his eyes and nodded, bracing himself for what was coming.

"That bastard!"

The shout was loud enough to startle Emma and the car swerved slightly before she gently admonished her daughter.

"Don't yell dear, we're right here. And I assume you have good reason for talking about your headmaster like that? Why don't we all just calm down and hear your reasoning."

Hermione had the decency to look abashed and quietened her tone but was no less angry. "Dumbledore overrode Harry's parents' last will and testament to have Harry placed with the Dursleys. He erected a certain type of ward that prevented harm coming to Harry while in the bounds of his blood relative's care. So long as he should call that place home, he couldn't be harmed. "

Dan looked thoughtful and went to speak but Harry, unknowingly, cut him off. He spoke in a small voice that had a hint of betrayal.

"I didn't know you'd looked at my parent's will Hermione."

Hermione looked stricken and the anger in her eyes vanished, only to be replaced with grief. But the anger flowed right back in. "You mean he never showed you?"

Harry looked bewildered now. "Who never showed me?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, her hands were firmly grasping Harry's as she held them in her lap.

"Dumbledore, as the headmaster of your school, you being an orphan and all. He becomes your magical sponsor. It's required for the magical sponsor of an orphan to ensure that the wishes of his or her parents are followed and that the will be shown to the orphan when they reach schooling age. He should have shown it to you on your eleventh birthday. At the very latest he should have shown you when he went to see you after the incident with Professor Quirrel and the Stone."

Harry felt his own blood begin to boil at that, his confusion was slowly being cut away to reveal the anger hidden beneath.

"Hold on, you're telling me that my parents' last will and testament has been available for me to read all this time and he hasn't even mentioned it to me? How could he do that?" He thought for a moment before asking another question. "Who was I supposed to live with?"

Hermione squeezed his hands gently before speaking. "Well obviously Sirius was their first choice, but he was framed. Professor Lupin was their second choice, then Peter Pettigrew." Here she paused slightly as Harry winced at the sound of the traitor's name. "Obviously you would have gone to live with Remus if Dumbledore hadn't taken you away." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "I hate to say this Harry but I don't know if you would have been very safe with him. No offense but his condition does present a rather big… obstruction, to your safety once a month."

Harry nodded; sadly he had to agree. Living with Remus, while it would have been fine with him as a teenager, would have been hard, if not outright dangerous as a child, and obviously Pettigrew was out of the question. He shuddered at the thought that he had come perilously close to being finished off by the ratty little man.

Once more he felt Hermione's supporting touch as she tugged his hands up to her lips to sweetly kiss the backs of them. Her small voice rang through the car, "I'll do what I can to make sure you don't have to go back to them ever again Harry."

His heart fluttered in his chest at her actions and words and he felt his own eyes prickle.

"Thanks Hermione. But… I don't know if I can leave, if the wards have been protecting me all this time, maybe I need to stay."

He was about to say something else but a cleared throat caught his attention and he turned to see Dan looking at him speculatively.

"I don't think the wards was it? Are working."

Harry looked at the older man, a little shocked, before he heard a gasp from Hermione.

"Of course Harry, you don't call Number Four home do you?"

Harry grimaced and spoke without thinking.

"Of course not, how could I when Vernon thrashes me within an inch of my life every day?"

He heard a sharp gasp from the front seat to see Emma glance back and them before Dan's hand gently touched her shoulder, himself looking a little shaken but the outburst. Then it clicked for Harry.

"He hurts me, puts me in physical danger. If the wards were working then that wouldn't be possible…" He thought for a moment, and then the absurdity of it all washed down on him, in an angry voice, the first the Grangers (barring Hermione) had heard him use.

"Are you kidding me? Of course the wards were never going to work. Even from a young age Dudley always whinged about when my parents were going to take me home. I've never thought of the place as home, ever. It's always just been a roof over my head and a bit of food to keep me going if they Dursleys didn't think I had done anything wrong that day. "

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and released it, trying to get a hold of his temper, his voice had been steadily rising and it was on the verge of becoming a shout. He felt soothing hands on his cheeks and opened his eyes to see Hermione looking at him with a tender expression. She didn't say anything but, then again, she didn't need to. He knew she was there for him and he sank forwards into her arms. He didn't notice Dan facing the road again and leaning across to whisper to Emma. It was a crushing realization to learn that his whole life he had been abused for no apparent reason. There was no need for him to be at the Dursleys; he would have been just as safe anywhere else. The rest of the car ride was silent.

-:-

Hermione was angry. More than angry actually, she was furious. Sitting at her dresser and dragging a brush through her hair she muttered darkly under her breath. There would be hell to pay from one Albus Dumbledore. His negligence had ruined Harry's childhood, stripped him of one in fact. Not even Hermione had known the full extent of Harry's suffering until the ride home. And even now she knew there were still things that her raven haired companion was hiding from her. She didn't mind overly, she knew he would tell her eventually, when he was ready. The fact that he had had to endure such things in the first place was horrific and she hated the thought that he had dealt with more pain and suffering in his young life than many adults dealt with in their entire lifetimes. She took several deep breaths and forced herself to calm down. This was Harry's night, his belated birthday gift from her. She would be damned if the Dursleys and Albus fucking Dumbledore could reach out and ruin their evening.

She was done up in an elegant dress that hung down to her ankles in a sheer body-hugging emerald green curve. She and her mother both thought it would knock Harry's socks off that night. Little did she know that Emma Granger had instructed her husband to help Harry to look just as smashing for her daughter.

When the two finally saw each other in the living room, mere minutes before they had to leave, Hermione was simply stunned. Harry looked absolutely dapper, his hair had the usual roguish look that she so adored, but now the rest of him was done up to match. He had cleaned his glasses and taken a leaf out of Dan's book and shaved. Even as a fourteen-year-old he grew stubble aplenty and she hadn't seen him clean shaven since the start of the previous year. Now however, he was clean and standing tall with his Quidditch honed muscles filling out the jacket and trousers giving him the look of a caged animal. Something with untapped potential threatening to burst out, but remaining sedated if only to be polite. He wasn't stretching the fabric of the suit by any imagination; rather it was fitting and tailored and it looked eye-bogglingly handsome. When he proffered his arm to her and they headed out the front door to the car where Dan and Emma were waiting to take them to the play (they weren't themselves attending), Hermione nearly burst with suppressed elation. He was such a gentleman.

Smiling giddily she took his arm and whispered in his ear, "Happy birthday again Harry."

Before he could stand straight again she went up on tiptoes and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek. Blushing furiously she lowered her eyes and avoided his gaze nervously. Had she gone too far? But as they reached the door he surprised her, rather pleasantly, by leaning down and kissing her softly back, still on the cheek, but it made her heart flutter regardless and her blush deepened across her neck and cheeks. He opened her door for her and helped her into the car before moving around to his side to do the same. She was sure that he had never been tutored and she looked at her father questioningly but he shrugged. He must be naturally gentlemanly she decided. And that wasn't a stretch to imagine at all; he was after all one of the sweetest men she had ever met. When he sat beside her and laced their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world she nearly squealed with happiness. Nearly; Hermione Granger does not squeal after all.

Dan turned to them. "All set to go then?"

Hermione turned to Harry and he nodded; she nodded to her dad and soon they were on their way with time to spare.

-:-

It didn't take long for Dan to drive the pair into town and before they got out Harry was surprised when Emma gently took both their hands to get their attention.

"You two have fun tonight you hear? No talk of anything more serious than how you feel about each other, and happy birthday Harry."

Harry blushed a deep crimson before hastily moving out of the car to get Hermione's door. She smiled warmly at him and let him help her out. He heard Dan's voice from the front seat of the car. "I'll be back to pick you two up at half eleven okay? The play should be about ending by then. I'll be waiting here."

Harry and Hermione both smiled and thanked him before he wished them a fun time and the pair drove off, leaving the teenagers standing in the warm summer night. Harry proffered his arm once more and Hermione happily took it.

Harry couldn't help but steal small glances at Hermione as they walked through the foyer of the Oxford Playhouse. She was absolutely stunning and Harry couldn't help but think about what Emma had said, their feelings for each other? Until that night he had never thought that he might have any feelings for Hermione except for friendship. But seeing her like this, meeting her family, understanding the devotion she had for him...it was alighting on a part of his emotional psyche he didn't know he had. And it felt suspiciously like love. Or what he imagined love to feel like, anyway. It had been confirmed for him when, without even thinking twice, he had kissed Hermione's cheek earlier. There had been no words exchanged, none were needed. Not yet anyway.

Hermione gave the tickets to the usher and soon they were seated in the middle left of the audience. Harry gave Hermione a curious look as he asked, "So what exactly are we seeing?"

Hermione blushed and put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. "Oh honestly did I forget to tell you? I'm sorry. We're watching 'My Fair Lady'. It's a popular play and I thought you would like it. There's a lot of humour and you should get some good laughs out of it."

Harry grinned and took her hand in his, feeling bold he kissed the back of her hand gently. "I'm sure I'll love it, just as much as I'm loving being here with you tonight. You look lovely Hermione, truly beautiful, and I'd not rather spend my birthday with anyone else. Thank you."

Harry was a little shocked when Hermione leaned forwards and after looking into his eyes for a couple of seconds, gently kissed him, not on the cheek, full on the lips. It wasn't for long, but it was a kiss. She smiled warmly at him and caressed his cheek.

"I'd not rather spend my time with anyone else either; you are my everything, you know that?"

Harry felt tears of joy spring to his eyes, but he blinked them away, now was not the time. He took her hand in his and held it gently. The lights dimmed and people started moving behind the curtain; he could hear the footsteps.

"Shall we talk more about this later? I'd love to discuss this more now but I think they're starting." Cheekily he leaned forwards, and kissed her softly back. It was very brief and he put a finger to his own lips as he pulled away, gesturing for quiet but promising more later.

They sat back, their hands still joined, and happily enjoyed the play together. It took a long time to finish and even with the intermission in the middle of the play Harry found that he enjoyed his time immensely. It was the best birthday he had ever had, despite not actually being the correct date. He could forgive that, he thought as he looked at Hermione back in the car, Dan driving them back to the Granger's Oxford home, because Harry had gained far more than simply a wonderful evening tonight. If everything went well, he had gained a girlfriend, maybe even more.

-:-

AN4: Holy balls an update. And look how big it is. I'm feeling inspired to write this week and you can expect fairly regular updates. A note about my Authors notes (Funny that…), All of the Authors notes you see at the start of a chapter are written either before or during the write up. Anything down here at the bottom is written afterwards. So I might repeat some things. It's not like I can pump out 12K words in an hour or anything. As usual thanks for reading, just seeing your views gives me massive motivation and those reviews are mighty strong reminders of why I love writing so much. (I'm sure it's mostly just narcissism.)

AN5: As I mentioned at the start of the chapter this one is more about the inter character relationships, specifically between Harry and Hermione, and mostly (To my great surprise) focusing on Hermione's thoughts more than Harry's. I'd like to get some feedback on what you think of the switching 'perspective' of the story, good? Bad? Ugly? Advice? Criticism? Throw it at me. I'd love to hear from you. This chapter was a little sappier than I originally intended and I hadn't meant for them to 'get together' so soon, but honestly it just felt natural. The discussion between them will of course come in the next chapter. I'm trying to keep this as mature as possible and avoid it becoming a 'Young adult story' they piss me off.

AN6: Review responses:  
>Anotherboarduser: Thanks for the compliments, they certainly touched on where I wanted this story to go and how I want the characters portrayed. As for your comment on the vocabulary used, that will change from character to character. And Hermione does see Harry as 'Lovely' it's less of what's actually true and more of her perception of him. That said he might be lovely, I'm really not one to judge. As for your concerns about a HarryHermione death I know this has been bothering a lot of people and despite me not wanting to give anything away I can't trust people to stick with me till the end and find out, so I'll spill the beans now. I've got no plans to kill either one of them off.

Darklordpotter: Thanks! As for the Beta offer I'd much appreciate it. I understand that things slip through the cracks and in big chapters like this where I often pick them up and put them down several times over the course of the day to finish them I understand that the quality sometimes suffers. Anyone who can point those spots out to me before the chapter hits the shelf would be much appreciated.

Pezberry: Thanks, here's one, expect another in a day or two :D

Snowangl: Thank you, I intend to keep the plot close to my chest to keep you all guessing.

MrBojangles: Thankyou very much :D

Pawsrule: Ha-ha, thanks, that's always nice for an author to hear. Also, I hate angst, it's stupid and pointless. rawr

NathanHale: Well I don't kid around… This story will have some rather graphic moments, I make no bones about that. I'm glad to hear you're engaged though, couldn't ask for anything more.

George: Thanks! I'll be looking for your review ;)

JHarry: I'm personally fed up with reading the same character over and over, like I said I'll be taking some of the canon characters and screwing around with them to make them fit my story a bit, hence the AU. Personally I thought canon Ron was too immature to be a part of a fic that I'm obviously aiming to a mature audience, hence the reshuffle of his character.

NedryOS: Well I hope I can convert you to into the favourites pile, it is a mature story and I thought there was a niche in the ship for one. While HHr is my OTP, I'm not opposed to using them to further a story about something totally different. Which as in later chapters you will find this somewhat is. Don't worry, the ship will remain mostly the core focus, but the actual purpose of the fic is much different.

LGreymark


	4. Pain and Healing

AN: Disclaimer as per usual. I sort of went nuts on the last chapter, part of me wanted a 12K word chapter but writing the whole thing in one day was a bit of a wakeup call. Apparently I can write that kind of volume but it suffers in quality towards the end. I'm still experimenting with a good chapter size so expect them to vary a bit. On the outset I'm aiming for about 9K words for this one, a happy medium between the two existing chapters, let's see how accurate I am and whether it runs away with me again or not ^.^

AN2: I often oscillate between a Ron/Weasley/Dumbledore basher and mildly indifferent towards the lot of them. After Hermione and Harry the twins and Bill are probably my favourite canon characters so expect to see a bit of them (My Hermione also had a bit of a crush for George back in the day, long gone now but it will have impact later) Anyhoo, onto the story!

AN3: There might seem to be a lot of detail/words per universe hour right now, I.E I'm more or less giving a blow by blow. That's mostly for the important points of the story, expect much of the school year to simply be summarized with key dates highlighted with this style.

-:-

Chapter three: Pain and healing.

When Harry woke the next morning he noticed something different, he was comfortable. There was no agonizing pain, no muscle cramps. There was no searing heat in his arms where he had hung for hours on end, barely able to support himself with his toes. All in all there was a calm sense of lethargy. No pressure to be anywhere, to be up early to shower and clean his cuts and bruises. No need to bully his muscles into rough cohesion for the next flogging. It was bliss. He snuggled down into the duvet and buried his head under the pillow. Sighing contentedly he considered falling asleep again and lying in. That plan was blown off its hinges when Hermione came rushing into the room and with an agility he had never witnessed from her, pounced on him.

It was the most pleasant awakening he had ever experienced as his new girlfriend kissed him softly on the lips while grinning down at him. Her cheery voice sounded sweet in the morning light  
>"Morning you, how did you sleep?"<br>Harry chuckled, noticing she was wearing a pair of comfortable looking loose pants and a somewhat threadbare top, her sleepwear he assumed.  
>"I slept well, but being awake is so much more enjoyable, especially with such a beautiful young woman straddled across me." He tried to rise and hug her but found she had craftily pinned his arms by holding the duvet down over him. It was a strange sensation to be trapped under her, but not able to touch.<p>

He raised an eyebrow at her,  
>"Keeping me trapped huh? Never thought you for kidnap Granger."<br>He smiled as she laughed softly and kiss his nose, playfully growling he tried to wrestle free but he couldn't get leverage. Her reply sent shivers up his spine, she leant down close and whispered  
>"I think you'll find that the kidnapping is just the start Mr Potter."<br>He let his eyes go wide at the implications and simply said  
>"Promises, promises"<p>

Her answering smile was typically cheeky and she lay sat down next to him, letting him wiggle out and sit up himself  
>"More fun indeed, I've been waiting for you to get up you lazy bones."<br>Harry's eyes widened slightly at the implication she had been spying on him as he slept, but then widened further as he realized that the sun was well and truly up.  
>"What time is it?"<p>

The young woman smiling at him answered with a touch of humour  
>"Nearly eleven, you seem to have managed to sleep in despite my strongest wishes for you to wake early."<br>Put on the back foot the young teen raised his eyebrow and thought furiously about the amount of extra sleep he had managed, six hours? Really? Impressive. He gently took her face in his hands and leaned in for a sweet kiss  
>"Thank you for letting me sleep in, I've not had this good a sleep in… well ever really." He became suddenly nervous, "I didn't dream last night up did I? We did have that talk?"<p>

Hermione laughed quietly behind her hand at the raven haired young man's expression, his hair was standing on end he had his shirt up around his neck, all bunched up, and his expression was ludicrously anxious.  
>"Yes we had the discussion; do I need to remind you of its contents?"<br>Harry chuckled, his body relaxing  
>"No you don't need to remind me, I remember it vividly."<p>

-:-

12 hours earlier…

Dan left the two teens sitting together in the living room as he left; no words were spoken save for a hushed 'Goodnight'. Apparently he trusted the young adults not to do anything untoward. Truly he could not have been more correct; Hermione had gently pushed Harry down onto the couch then curled up against his side, thankful for the slightly stretchy quality of her dress. Despite the long day neither of the pair were tired, so wired up were they about both the play and their now admitted attraction to one another. Harry chanced his luck by tilting her chin up and placing a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips.  
>"You've made me a very happy young man tonight Hermione, best, birthday, ever."<p>

Hermione blushed and ducked her head against Harry's chest  
>"I just want you to be happy. If kissing you makes you happy then who am I to complain?"<br>Harry concernedly looked down at her  
>"It makes you happy too though, right?"<br>Looking up at him she smiles with all the force of emotion she has behind those stunning doe eyes  
>"Yes Harry, I'm on top of the world right now."<p>

Harry was a little staggered, it was all he could do to wrap his arms around the young woman in his arms and hold her tightly to him, this was wonderful, this was… Right. He dipped his head to hers kissing her forehead tenderly, where did they go from here? She was his best friend, she knew most everything about him. And apparently now they kissed too. He felt small flutters of heat in his chest every time she looked at him, his mouth was dry and his hands were slightly clammy, at least to him anyway. He wanted this, badly. And knew exactly where their next step was going. He tilted her head up gently with his hands to look her in the eye, and summoning his Gryffindor courage he spoke the most important words of his short life.  
>"I'd be honoured Hermione, if you would be my girlfriend."<p>

At this Hermione's eyes softened, if possible, even more and she cupped his cheek with one hand, speaking softly to the man she loved.  
>"Silly, we've been dating since we first met, you just never realized. I don't just hold hands with anyone, or invite them to my house for a month."<br>Harry loved the feeling of her hand on his skin and closed his eyes as he listened to her explain, things started clicking into place, her overwhelming fear whenever he was hurt, his despondency in second year when she was petrified, her insistence to do anything she could to help him. The small touches, the hugs, walking around the lake at all hours. It was a bit much for him in honesty and he shivered a little at how easily she had inserted herself into his life and how okay with that he was.

He mentally shook himself, of course he was okay with it, he felt more for this girl than any other living being. He opened his eyes to see her looking at him with not a small touch of nerves, her small voice reached his ears  
>"Harry?"<br>That sound broke his heart; the usually confident Hermione was so nervous that she had been reduced to a near whisper, irrationally worried about him rejecting her. It was then that the young teen realized how much he meant to her and in turn how important she was to him. He felt compelled to comfort her and immediately held her close to him as he spoke,  
>"It makes sense Hermione and in all honesty I'm glad I finally woke up and smelled the roses. You're a beautiful young woman, body, mind, and if such a thing exists, soul." He leaned back and kissed her softly "be mine always?"<p>

Hermione clung to him then, her arms wrapping around him and her hands holding him close to her. Her soft voice came to his ears and his warm smile grew, if possible even wider.  
>"That sounds so perfect Harry." She yawned softly, "I showed you where my room is earlier right?" Harry's heart thumped in his chest, surely she didn't…? Hermione assuaged his panic when she tugged on his shirt. "Carry me to my bed Harry I don't think I can stand, please?" Harry's soft smile returned and, gathering her up in his arms he carried her to her room and with a feat of dexterity he didn't realize he was capable of on two feet he pulled the sheets back and laid her down softly on them. Sighing softly Hermione touched his cheek, she giggled softly in the moonlight streaming through the window, actually giggled.<br>"I'll not ask you to undress me Harry; I think that would do too much to your teenage mind. Just close the curtains on your way out could you?"

Easily agreeing he kissed her softly goodnight with the promise that she would come see him in the morning.

-:-

Present…

Hermione chuckled, Harry had remembered most everything, except one major point which he must have missed as he left the room.  
>"Do you remember what I said as you left?"<br>Harry shook his head and Hermione smiled softly and touched his cheek with one hand, cupping it with a loving gesture. He must have been just as tired as she was last night to forget this.  
>"I said I love you."<br>She watched carefully as his eyes widened and his body stiffened momentarily, then relaxed as his arms snaked around her waist and tugged her in for a long sweet kiss that left them both breathless. His next words shocked her.  
>"I love you too Hermione, I just don't think I knew till last night."<p>

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, did he just? Surely not, that flew in the face of everything she had guessed about his emotions for her, did he really feel that deeply already? No surely… She stopped thinking abruptly as Harry's lips pressed to hers again, softly teasing the already puffy skin before pulling back and reaffirming his statement  
>"I love you, I probably have for a while these feelings don't just come out of nowhere. But I've been too caught up in my own life to notice you until now. Thank you for sticking by me Hermione, for letting me learn to love you."<p>

She nearly broke down then and outright tackled him as her breath hitched again, threatening tears. She blinked them back forcefully, she wouldn't cry about this. This was a good thing. Her arms wrapped around his back and she snuggled close to him on the bed, gently urging them to lay flat, her on the covers, him under them. They lay like that for a time, she could feel his breath on her neck and it slightly tickled, but more than anything it felt intimate and more than a little sexy. She shook those thoughts off, 'not yet, we're too young'. Eventually though she became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, turning around she spotted her mother leaning on the doorframe smiling down at them.

-:-

Emma chuckled as her daughter squeaked and hastily tried to hide her head in Harry's chest, clearly mortified that they had been caught. At the sound Harry looked up and immediately panicked, it was, in all honesty, quite funny to watch the pair act like normal teens for once, caught by the parent in a compromising position. Emma didn't begrudge them the cuddle, it was as chaste as could be and she could tell they had exchanged words together last night. She grinned, if Hermione's lips were anything to go by they had exchanged more than just words last night and probably this morning too. She was so proud of her daughter, she had gone out, and planned how to help Harry, brought everything together, even worked for the money for the tickets. Then strong-armed her parents into helping her save the messy haired boy from his relatives, bring him somewhere where he could be loved.

It warmed her heart to see the two getting on so well, they already had a strong connection together that spoke of a maturity not found usually in teens. She politely waited until they were safely extricated from one another and Hermione was sitting up on the bed, blushing madly. Emma noted however that their hands were still joined. Smiling she said  
>"I don't actually mind you two cuddling, or kissing. Don't worry about Dan either, he'll turn a blind eye as long as you two don't get too frisky, anyway, Hermione your dad wants you to set the table for breakfast, and I need to have a chat with Harry here before we come down."<p>

Hermione looked worried but after giving Harry a chaste kiss on the lips she stood and gave her mother a brief hug before darting downstairs. Emma could hear the rapid footsteps on the old hardwood floor. Emma went further into the room and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to sit on him. This was hard for her, she'd raised a daughter and thought that she knew fairly well how to deal with Hermione's mood swings. But she had never had to deal with an adolescent son. She was in uncharted waters here and had to take things slowly. Her voice rose softly against the early morning light.  
>"Did you sleep well?"<br>Harry looked nervous but seemed to reply honestly  
>"Best sleep I've ever had. I feel safe here." That did it for her.<p>

She reached out and took one of Harry's hands in a motherly gesture,  
>"You are safe here Harry, none of us would ever dream of hurting you."<br>Harry smiled wanly and squeezed her hand in appreciation. She didn't say anything but instead looked at the surface of his skin. It was pitted with scars of all kinds, some long thin scratches, others clearly caused by burns. The damage moved up his forearms and disappeared under the sleeves of his nightshirt. She knew he had a dangerous time of it at school but these weren't accidents or from fights, these were household scars, from dealing with thorny plants, or boiling water. They were old too. A stab of anger went through her heart as she saw the legacy of pain that the young man in front of her had dealt with all his life, it was little better than slavery. At least he was still alive.

She couldn't fathom the depths of depravity that one had to reach to willingly torture a child. It was simply beyond her scope of understanding. She would never dream of hurting a child, much less one of her own family. Indeed much less this tragically sad young man who had fallen quite neatly into her life. She was under no illusions, he and Hermione loved each other. If Emma had her way they'd become husband and wife one day and give her lots of little grandchildren to look after. She had always deeply regretted not having another child with Dan but it had simply never seemed to happen. She would have liked a son. Maybe she still had a chance, and if her conversation with her husband last night was anything to go by that might be a very real chance. The young man in front of her would certainly be her son in law one day, but maybe they could go a step further.

She looked at him then and he was nervous as if he had been caught in wrongdoing, she smiled softly and ruffled his hair in a gesture she hoped would comfort him.  
>"Don't worry, you aren't in trouble. I think what you and Hermione has is lovely and I couldn't stand between you if I wanted to. No Harry I want to talk to you, a bit more privately, about your home life." She noticed Harry's wince and she squeezed his hand supportively, much in the same way Hermione had yesterday in the car. The young girl had to get it from somewhere right?<br>"I don't want to press you but I'm afraid I'm obligated to. As a medical professional it's my responsibility to report child abuse to the police, especially when it comes to violent or sexual abuse."

She saw Harry's eyes widen and he shook his head quickly looking faintly disgusted  
>"He never did…. That…"<br>She let out a tense breath, that would have been the worst thing. Physical abuse she could hopefully help Harry to overcome, she and Hermione had talked about it briefly while she helped Hermione pick a dress to wear for last night. The two of them could handle any hardship of Harry's that was of a violent nature. But sexual abuse… those scars might never have healed.

Fortunately that, that final nail in the coffin for the Dursleys had never actually become a reality, at that point she would have been willing to bet that had something like that happened to the young man Dan would have gone back to Surrey himself to sort out the pig of a man. She squeezed Harry's hand again softly bracing herself for what she needed to ask him next.  
>"I need to know the extent of what he did to you, and whether the rest of the household was involved, so that I can make an accurate report to the authorities, and I'm sorry Harry but the sooner we do this the sooner we can put this behind you and you can move on with your life."<p>

Harry seemed to realize what she was asking and nodded slightly, looking thoughtful, but nervous and more than a little scared, he grimaced after a second or two and looked up at her  
>"If they're in prison, where will I live outside of Hogwarts? I can't live with my godfather; he's still on the run. Remus isn't really in any kind of state to be looking after me and I'd rather go back to Vernon than live with Peter Pettigrew."<br>That was the sticking point, Harry had nowhere else to go, he was an orphan with no real relatives safe for those appalling excuses for human beings. Emma looked at him sadly and squeezed his hand again, in a motherly gesture.  
>"Dan and I had a talk yesterday, while you and Hermione were out shopping, and then again when you two were at the play. We agreed that if you'd be willing. We would adopt you."<p>

-:-

Harry was totally gobsmacked, adopt him? His mouth opened and closed several times, somewhat comically, like a fish out of water. He frantically tried to organize his thoughts, why would they offer this? Just for his sake? Maybe, they had been awfully accommodating already and he really had no idea of just how far these people would go for someone, even a stranger. No, that was stupid, of course he had an example. Hermione was the perfect example of their kindness, they had raised her hadn't they? Taught her right from wrong? Imbued her with their moral values? Hermione's absolute commitment to helping him, even in the most dangerous situations, was always a shock to Harry. That she would put herself in harm's way over and again to help him. His mind was spinning as he grappled with the concept of a pair of people knowing him for barely a day before making this kind of decision. He had no precedent, not really, and this new facet of human nature was tearing down the walls of reality that he had built around himself.

He took several deep breaths, still unable to say anything, he was suddenly hyper aware of his scars, his blemishes. The deformities inflicted upon him by a cruel unfeeling man, a man who, for most of his life, he had treated as family. It was something of a shameful point to Harry that he had never managed to get any love from his relatives, ever since he could remember he had craved familial affection. The love of a family around him, he hadn't really known what he was craving but it had something to do with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Even Dudley in his way, was someone Harry desperately wanted to love him. Years passed and his life grew steadily worse, neglect became outright abuse, and forgetfulness turned to forced starvation for anywhere up to a week. When he had reached Hogwarts Harry had been dangerously malnourished, and the food at Hogwarts had made him physically sick for weeks as his body frantically tried to adjust to the concept of nutrition.

This concept, of someone actually caring enough about him to include them into what was clearly a loving family was totally alien. The gentle touch of Emma's hand holding his, and then, to his very great surprise, the motherly hug she wrapped him in. He wept then, openly and without shame as his walls came crumbling down. His body shook with aggrieved sobs as his whole reality was forced on his head. For the longest time he hadn't thought himself worthy of this, had tried to push people away. Only Hermione and Ron had been able to get under his walls and stay with him. Now this overwhelming sense of acceptance was just too much for the poor boy.

Waves of understanding crashed down on him in a graceless heap, he would never be beaten again, never be starved, he would be loved, he would be cared for. Everything he had ever craved, that he had been so callously denied, was being thrust upon him in an instant and he simply broke. His mind couldn't handle the myriad of emotions and his body went limp in Emma's arms.

-:-

Alarmed at Harry's sudden cessation of noise and movement she tilted the young man back in her arms to find that he had simply passed out. It had been too much for him. And moments later, like a computer rebooting, his eyes fluttered open. She tenderly held him to her again, her heart went out to the broken young man who had captured her daughter's heart. It was a wonder that he was as lovely as he was. He was calm, for the most part, gentlemanly, sweet and affectionate. All despite the horrors he had experienced as a child, like there was some inner peace that drove him to do better. Silently Emma prayed thankfully for this young man's defiant goodness in the face of all the evil he had dealt with. When he finally pulled away from her wiping his tearstained face Emma nearly cried herself, there was a look of fierce determination on his face, the kind of look that people got when they were about to make the hardest decision of their life.

She held her breath, waiting for his judgement; internally it shocked her how much his approval meant to her. He had a way of eliciting the most protective of motherly instincts within her and she wanted nothing more than for this wonderful young man to have a family of his own. Even if that meant taking him under her wing herself. She saw Harry square his shoulders and open his mouth to speak.  
>"I'll tell you everything; let the police hit them with everything they can. I don't ever want to see them again, they can rot in jail for all I care. And…" Here he paused and Emma felt moisture prickling in her eyes as his determination fell away to nervous timidity, his obvious terror at being rejected again showing through. He continued in such a small voice that it was a wonder she heard it at all<br>"And I'd love to be your son. If Hermione is anything to go by you and Dan are wonderful people and I'd like to be able to share in what you have here, if you'll have me. But… Can I talk to Hermione about it first?"

Emma smiled broadly, her own tears threatening to spill over at his thoughtfulness, despite being offered the chance of a lifetime, all of his wishes and dreams put in front of him to take, if only he stretched out a little further. He still wanted to consult with Hermione and make sure this was what she wanted too. A part of her was a little indignant that he would put his own happiness aside for what could possibly be only the smallest of disagreements from her daughter. But she realized that Hermione would never deny him this. She knew that her daughter was deeply in love with the young man in front of her who had dealt with so much hardship in his life. Everything would be just fine.  
>"Of course honey. You and Hermione can talk about it today then the four of us can talk about it again tonight if you'd like. You don't even have to make a decision today if you don't want to, we have a whole month for you to get used to the idea."<p>

The raven haired teen in front of her nodded slowly as if mulling it over.  
>"I would like to hear what Dan has to say about this too. Don't get me wrong, your acceptance means the world to me, and I know you talked about this with him. But I want; no I need to make sure I'm not going to be a burden."<br>Emma smiled proudly at him, he knew how hard it would be for him to hold off on accepting this point blank, and really, she supposed, he already had. But his desire to make sure the rest of Emma's family felt the same way before he committed himself to this was truly admirable. She smiled softly and gave him a quick squeeze with her arms. There was still one more thing they had to deal with.  
>"Harry I need you to show me, or at least tell me if you're embarrassed, what that man did to you, remember me talking about that report? The more detailed it is the longer the police should be able to put him away for."<p>

Harry seemed to baulk at this, if only for a moment, before steeling himself. It was a fascinating thing to watch, the way he visibly toughened himself for whatever hardship lay ahead of him. Her heart broke a little when she realized he probably had to do this every day of his life.  
>"I'd rather show everyone at once, I don't want to have to do this multiple times."<br>Emma nodded and gestured for him to stay put, giving him one last motherly hug before heading downstairs to find Hermione nervously fidgeting on the sofa in the living room and Dan unconcernedly reading his paper. She cleared her throat to get their attention. When she spoke she was aiming her words at her husband but was fully aware that Hermione was hanging off every word.  
>"I just talked to Harry about what we discussed yesterday and he seems to want what we're offering. I asked him about showing me or telling me what that filthy pig of a man did to him and he said he would rather show us or tell us all at once, rather than having to do it multiple times, which I thought fair. Can breakfast be put on hold for a while?"<p>

Hermione, unsurprisingly, was the first one to speak  
>"I put a warming charm on everything, it should be fine until we get back." Emma chuckled and looked down at her daughter, magic certainly was handy. Dan was looking at her over his reading glasses and simply gave her a firm nod. His soft voice met her ears<br>"Up there or down here?"  
>Emma was certain Harry would want to be as comfortable as possible so she made the decision for him.<br>"In his room I think. This is going to be hard enough as it is without having to feel like he's some kind of circus freak showing off."

Emma noticed Hermione and Dan both wince at that and she cocked an eyebrow at them, Dan was the one to answer her.  
>"Freak seemed to have been Dursley's favourite descriptor for the boy. He used it as a name for him, as if Harry defined the term."<br>Emma winced then too, realizing doubly how hard this was going to be for the boy and his insistence on only doing it once made more sense. Hermione was already up and heading for the stairs, Emma decided to give her a head start to talk to Harry and make sure he was okay.

-:-

As Hermione climbed the stairs to the second floor of the cosy Oxford townhouse she wondered at the conversation her mother had, had with Harry. She had no doubts that the young man would tell her eventually. But she couldn't help but be curious, it was in her nature. When she got to his room, she took a deep breath and knocked on the closed door somewhat shyly, suddenly unsure of herself. When Harry's dulcet tones reached her ears she let the breath out, dealing with her irrational worries before she entered.  
>"Come in"<br>When Hermione did enter her eyes immediately went to his face and she saw the hastily wiped tear tracks there. She smiled softly and went to him, holding him close even as he held her. Whatever her mum had talked about with Harry must have been hard.

"How are you love?"  
>Harry smiled at the endearment and softly pecked her lips, Hermione felt a shudder of joy rush through her at the small intimate gesture, especially when his hands moulded to the small of her back, touching her in a very comfortable and close manner. It made her melt slightly into his arms. His reply was typically sweet and endearing.<br>"Better now that you're here, are your mum and dad coming up or do I need to go down?"  
>Hermione blushed slightly at his implied praise and ran a finger down his cheek it didn't yet have the stubble that she knew would regrow there but it was already rougher than last night.<br>"They're coming up to see you."

They just held each other then, exchanging short, sweet kisses and touches waiting for her parents to come in. When they did arrive a few minutes later it was clear they had, had a short discussion and Dan sat next to the pair on the bed and gave his daughter a look of gentle request. She slid elegantly off his lap and perched next to him on the bed, taking one of her hands in his. Emma drew up a chair and brushed Harry's fringe back from his face in a small gesture that shocked Hermione a little. Harry hated having people touch him, aside from her that was, but here he was closing his eyes in contentment as her mother's fingers brushed across his forehead. Whatever they had talked about was definitely big and Hermione resolved then and there to ask him about it later. For now though she would just be here with him and support him. Her father's words were gentle when he finally spoke

"I know this I going to be tricky for you Harry, if not downright difficult. But we need you to talk about this, if you're comfortable we should also take a look at any current wounds you have and make sure they aren't infected."  
>Harry nodded and sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself. Hermione had seen this show of courage many times now and it never failed to amaze her that the shy sweet Harry could bring into him this strength of character that let him overcome basilisk and dark lords, even the darkness inside his own home.<p>

-:-

Harry was nervous, and rightly so, but here was a family that wanted to help him, and he would be damned if he let this opportunity pass him by. Letting out his breath and taking in another to steady himself he started talking,  
>"I can't remember when the actual abuse started, but it's been going on at least as long as I've been going to any kind of school, so probably since I was around four or five. Before that… I don't know. But I have flashes of memory, crying at the door to their room or pounding my little hands on the inside of my cupboard, screaming for them to let me out, to feed me, to love me. One day I guess it must have been a bit much for Vernon and he started beating me to shut me up. I think that was probably one of the original impetuses for it, but it seems to have developed into more of a hobby for him. It used to be a simple spanking, he'd put me over his knee and hit my arse with a wooden spoon, often till it bled. I wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after that. And after my seventh birthday when I had a burst of uncontrolled magic, I couldn't sit down or lie on my back for nearly three months. Every morning he would re-open those cuts. Fortunately they managed to heal. Don't ask me why or how but I've not got those scars any more. When I was six he introduced another punishment that eventually replaced the spankings altogether. He took a pair of his belts and used them to tie my hands above my head then to the lintel of the kitchen door. He'd rip whatever clothing I had on my back off and then beat me with another belt. The first time I passed out from the pain. I woke up in my cupboard the next day with cuts all across my back. Sometimes he wouldn't use his belt, he'd go out and get a piece of willow from the park, or a briar and whip me with it instead." Harry took a deep shuddering breath, the memories of those beatings were still fresh and hard to deal with.<p>

"After my second burst of magic Vernon took it upon himself to change the 'focus' of these thrashings, instead of as a punishment for some perceived wrong, it was to; 'Beat the unnaturalness out of me', some part of him thought that if he hit me hard enough he could dislodge the source of my magic. It was a dumb concept but that didn't stop him from trying, it didn't stop at beatings either, he starved me sometimes, I often went for a week at a time without eating anything. After that, probably when I was about eight. It became a daily habit. We fell into a routine. In the morning, at around five when everyone was asleep I would go into the bathroom and take a shower, washing the blood off me as best I could. Clean my cuts, etcetera. Then I'd go back to my room and do my best to learn something from one of the textbooks left over from Dudley's temper tantrums about homework. Until I went to Hogwarts I'd not been to school since I was six. I still struggle with writing sometimes. But it's gotten easier with Hermione's help."

He looked over at his best friend and smiled thankfully at her, taking a brief break from the emotional keelhaul. After Hermione had noticed how hard it was for him to read and write she had taken it upon herself to teach him and she had been a wonderful teacher. He sighed and took a deep breath to continue his story.  
>At around eight he would take me from my room. I stopped bothering to struggle after he broke one of my ribs early on in the punishment. It's a miracle it didn't cause me any problems and I rather think my magic had something to do with it. Anyway, he would tie me to the same spot beneath the kitchen door and take out his belt, or a piece of plant life if he had one handy, and then beat me with it. Usually for a few minutes, not more than half an hour at a time, fortunately for me he never had any real stamina when it came to anything physical, I think I might have died had he been in better shape. Anyway, after he was done he would take me down and throw me back in my cupboard, or my room after I started Hogwarts".<p>

Harry closed his eyes, the memories of his most recent beating came back to him vividly and he winced slightly at the recollected pain. He felt a pair of warm arms encircle his waist, and another around his shoulders. Two sets of bushy brown hair obscured his vision when he finally opened his eyes and realized that both the Granger women were hugging him and crying silently into his shoulders, Dan looked a bit teary himself. Though they were tears of rage, Harry was a little shocked when he stood abruptly and left the room. Emma noticed the movement and pulled away gently while explaining  
>"That's enough for Dan to make his report, it's enough for me too but I still want to see those cuts of yours and make sure they're not infected. I'd hate for you to get sick."<p>

Harry nodded numbly; the outpouring of words had come from somewhere he couldn't rightly locate inside of him. It was the strangest sensation now that it was all out in the open, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, just like yesterday when he had worn those clothes for the first time he felt freer. When he realized that Hermione was still clutching him he slid his arms around her back and held her close, rocking her gently.  
>"It's okay, I'm not there anymore, you got me out of there remember? I'm safe."<p>

He kept talking to her and eventually she calmed down and simply held him, occasionally pressing little kisses to his neck and cheek. It felt good to hold her, even with Emma right there, and he realized right then and there that he already saw Emma as a part of his life. He was comfortable being somewhat intimate with Hermione with Emma right there and he knew that she wouldn't break them up. It felt good to have someone who supported them so strongly. Harry found himself talking to Emma while he held Hermione, and it seemed that while her daughter was content just to be held Emma wanted to converse with the young man, get to know him a bit better and do her best to make him comfortable. Eventually he decided it was time to get this over and done with and gently urged Hermione away from him while hooking his hands under the nightshirt he wore. He turned around, sitting with his back to the women and tugged the shirt off, wincing when he heard them gasp.

-:-

Hermione was shocked when she saw the ugly lattice of scars that covered Harry's back. It was hideous, a web of mottled scar tissue that stretched from just above his rear to the top of his neck where she could see a plaster peeking out from under his hair. Several of the cuts were clearly fresh and had only recently scabbed over, others were slightly older, and if she looked, she could identify cuts of various ages ranging back through the full month he had been home, and then simply older tissue from before that summer. It was too much, she thought desperately, how had he survived that kind of abuse? She could understand why he was so stiff in the mornings sometimes, as some of the cuts clearly bit into muscle as well as simply skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the lattice of scar tissue flex as his muscles did, covering his back like an angry shell of hardship. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the pain he must have gone through and how, according to him, he had only passed out once. His tolerance for pain must be incredible she thought belatedly.

She didn't care about how it looked, not from an aesthetic standpoint. It didn't make her any less attractive to him, she wasn't after him for his body. She loved his mind and soul. That hunk of Quidditch toned muscle wasn't exactly chopped liver though. She resolved that this would change nothing between them, she refused to let this make things awkward and she would show him just how little the scar tissue minded her as soon as possible. Her mouth went dry at just what kind of things she could do for him. Shaking herself from those thoughts she heard an angry huff from her mother.

Almost scared to see the reaction she turned to her mother, wincing at the look on Emma's face she turned away. The woman looked furious, more than furious really but even Hermione didn't have a word to describe the look on her mother's face. The closest she could ascribe to was pure hatred for whatever had inflicted this upon the young man. Before Hermione could blink Emma had moved forwards and wrapped Harry tightly into a hug, she could see him turn awkwardly in her arms and shoot a helpless look at Hermione. Emma's next words shocked her.  
>"We'll never let this happen to you again, you hear? I don't want any arguments from you, you'll come back here next summer straight away, Albus Dumbledore be damned."<p>

Hermione couldn't help but be elated, it sounded like Emma wanted Harry here permanently, but what could that mean? Her answer came in a careful statement from Harry that shook her world.  
>"Your mum and dad have offered to adopt me love."<br>Hermione didn't know how to feel. He was going to be her brother? Adopted to be sure but… didn't that make her love for him incest? She shook her head roughly, how could she be so daft? He might have been the love of her life and they had certainly created a sibling like bond of unconditional love between them. But it was quickly erupting into so much more than that. They loved each other and that wouldn't change because of an adoption. Then it hit her, he never had to go back. Harry never had to be whipped or beaten, starved or tortured by those… freaks of nature, ever again. She thought the moniker fitted those people much more than it had ever fit Harry.

The world seemed like it couldn't bless her any more than it already had. She wasn't as religious as her parents, she was simply too young to understand the full concept of their faith, and she knew that. But she couldn't help but think that there was something up there compensating Harry for all the wrongs committed upon him. And blessing her with not only who she knew would be a wonderful brother to her, in the loosest sense. But also a wonderful life partner, a husband, she thought giddily. It was going to be a little strange at first, dating her brother. But she was sure she would manage, they both would. Something twitched in her mind and the thought of dating Harry quickly shifted to marrying him one day. And the thought of her last initial changing permanently was a little too much for her.

She couldn't help it, and she genuinely thought that she had run out of tears for the day, but she started crying again, slightly ashamed of herself for being so weepy she reached out blindly to Harry, only to feel two sets of arms pulling her close into their three way hug. She had no idea how long they stayed like that but there was a certain sense of familial camaraderie that she knew was going to be a core part of the rest of her life and a small part of her revelled in the feeling of Harry's bare chest snug against her own chest and cheek. Her heart fluttered slightly, as she heard the solid thumping of Harry's own organ in his chest. It was rich and full of life and she loved the sound. Soon after she felt a much larger pair of arms wrap around the trio and she snuggled backwards into her dad for a moment before returning back to her man.

-:-

The family stayed like that for a while before they broke apart and Dan spoke up, he was holding his own anger in check at the sight of Harry's back,  
>"I've called the police to set up a meeting and written an affidavit. I'll meet with them on Wednesday and hopefully we can put them behind us by this time a fortnight from now."<br>Harry wasn't really listening he was too overwhelmed by the feelings he was getting from having a true family dynamic around him. It was wonderful to have the support of three people who actually cared about him. When the hug broke apart he still held Hermione's hand. He heard her speak and couldn't help but agree with her  
>"Is it okay if Harry and I go for a walk soon? I'm feeling a little drained after all this emotion."<p>

Dan and Emma both smiled at them, but it was Dan who responded  
>"What and ignore the wonderful breakfast I cooked for the family? What am I? Chopped liver?"<br>Harry chuckled along with the other three as they laughed and with a start realized that he was quite hungry. They had only had a small dinner last night before the play and he hadn't eaten anything since lunch the previous day. He looked hopefully at Hermione and her answering smile made him grin.  
>"Breakfast then?" He asked<br>"Breakfast!" The three said at once before breaking into fits of laughter again. There was something liberating about the laughter, it was reaffirming their newfound familial bond and Harry loved it.

He tugged on his most comfortable clothes and waited as Hermione got some of her own, when she returned he gently kissed her before pulling her into a hug. Emma and Dan had already gone downstairs and he was going to take advantage of the peace to talk to Hermione for a moment alone.  
>"How do you feel about this love? The whole adoption thing? It was sort of sprung on me pretty suddenly and my knee jerk reaction was to take the offer and not let it go. But I wanted to know how you felt about it first." He paused, took a breath, and continued with a softer tone. "If you don't want me as your brother I can understand, it would be kind of strange to be dating your brother and yet for it to be totally fine. If you don't want this I'll tell your mum that I can work something out."<p>

-:-

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing, Harry had the offer of a family dangling in front of his nose and he held back purely on the grounds that he wanted to make sure she wanted this too? She didn't really know what to feel, all at once it was flattering and charming that he was so thoughtful and it made her heart melt. It was also slightly annoying that he felt that there might be some part of her that didn't want him near her for the rest of her life. That though she could put aside as she knew he had issues with his own sense of self-worth. Seriously though she thought about it, yes it would be strange, but truly she'd already mulled this over, she wanted this, he wanted this. If her parents would have him then she wouldn't complain, in fact she'd be rather keen on the idea.

"No Harry, I don't want you to turn this down. This is everything you've ever wanted, a family who will love you and give you save haven. I love you Harry and nothing is going to change that, not even if you're my brother. Weird as that sounds." She heard him let out a breath and she was in his arms again, hugging him close, his whispered reply made her breath hitch.  
>"I'll be yours always Hermione. I love you more than anything. You've always been a bit of a big sister for me anyway, one that I love like no brother should love his sister. But that's beside the point." He frowned, "We need to think of different labels for this, it's getting too confusing trying to tell you how I feel and simultaneously not sound incestuous."<p>

She couldn't help but laugh at that, he was so open and honest with his feelings but it was digging him into a bigger and bigger hole as he tried to explain how he felt. It was okay, he didn't need to tell her because she already knew. He was the one person probably who understood the relationship they had, and it was mutual. They felt the same about one another. The emotional support of siblings, coupled with the love of two soul mates. She wouldn't have it any other way. Gently taking his hand she led him downstairs to the dining room where breakfast was laid out and the two elder Grangers chatting between themselves over different parts of the daily paper. Harry and Hermione sat down and the young witch removed the warming charms on the food. She had learned long ago that food which provided its own heat in your stomach was most uncomfortable. Dan and Emma shot the two teens a look of approval as they sat side by side at the round dining table, their hands linked.

Hermione spotted all this and had to make a conscious effort not to drop their linked hands apart. It was nothing more than feeling the pressure of her parent's eyes but it was enough to make her blush furiously, that didn't get easier when Harry pecked her on the cheek. His cheeky remark broke her out of her stupor though  
>"You know love that if you get any redder, my eggs probably won't remain soft for long."<br>She laughed softly and pecked his cheek back before digging into the yummy meal her dad had produced. Eggs, breakfast sausage, toast and a pair of hash browns.

-:-

As the family ate around the table they chatted and talked well into the afternoon, even when the plates were clean and stacked for washing they gravitated back towards the table and talked about their future together as a family. Harry quickly found that he and Dan had a lot in common when you stripped away the differences between the magical and non-magical worlds. And he already was starting to treat Emma like his mother. Once he even slipped up and called her mum. When dinner time rolled around several hours later they had merely migrated to the sitting room, Hermione curled up on the couch next to Harry with her arms draped around him and her head resting against his shoulder while his own arms supported her and held her close. They ordered takeaway and continued their talks late into the night until Hermione fell asleep in Harry's arms and he carried Hermione up to her room after saying goodnight to her parents. When he had laid her down in her bed, much the same as he had last night, he realized they never had gone for that walk. Leaning down and brushing his lips against her head he softly whispered.  
>"We have all the time in the world now, we can take a walk tomorrow, or the day after, or any after that. We have each other, and you are all I need."<p>

He hadn't realized she was awake but when her doe eyes connected with his he felt a jolt of electricity through his entire being. She reached up with her arms and pulled him down onto the bed for a cuddle, kissing him softly and murmuring with him even later into the night. At one point she had him face the wall as she got out of bed and changed into her nightwear before slipping back into the bed and cuddling up to him. It was a wonderful feeling to have her fall asleep in his arms. When she was truly out for the night he closed the curtains and tiptoed out into the hall, only to be met by Emma, she raised an eyebrow at him and he had the good grace to look abased. But she merely kissed his cheek and bid him goodnight before going into the room to do the same for Hermione. And when Harry had snuggled down in his own room he realized that the day couldn't possibly have gone better. And this was only the first day of a full month with his new family.

-:-

AN4: *Flinches* don't kill me. I rewrote this chapter a couple of times trying to figure out a good way of dealing with everything that needed to be dealt with in the day. Hopefully some of the bigger surprises don't send you all running for the hills. This will be the last chapter dedicated to Harry's time in Oxford, strange isn't it? He's only just gotten here and already we're leaving. Never fear there will be a reduced summary of what happens during the month, similar to the end of this chapter. And then we'll tackle the Quidditch world cup… That chapter is going to keep me up at night as I wonder how best to deal with it. Ah well, you'll see in a couple of days.

AN5: I noticed as I was reading this final edit again that I tend to favour the women in this story (As far as the focus goes) I'll do my best to even that out and get more of Dan and Harry's perspectives where appropriate. This shant be the last we hear of the Grangers of course, there are more holidays to come, and this fic will last at least until Harry's last Hogwarts year. Finally I'm sorry if Hermione comes across as being a little weepy in this chapter but I couldn't help but think that the appropriate response to that much emotional face punching would be to have a good cry about it. /Shrug. I guess the reviews will tell all. Speaking of reviews we're over twenty five already o.o this is popular apparently, I had best keep doing more of the same.

AN6: Review responses:  
>NathanHale2: This review literally made me squee a little bit, I adore Lovecraft's books and mythos. Very creepy and I can only hope to aspire to such heights. As for Tom's loyal follower… Well I'll be honest, I had origionally intended for him to be an OOC Barty Crouch Junior, but after looking at where I want the plot to go I realized that building an entirely new character from scratch would actually let me tackle the character in a way that let me really get under his skin and create a true supporting villain. If not the centre piece for the horrors to come. Stay tuned, these last two chaps might have been all lovey dovey, but the world is in for a rude awakening in just under a month (In universe…)<p>

.Stark: Thank you :D can't help but be flattered when someone compliments the plot. Even when it's barely revealed.

Starboy, nette and HarryHermioneEdwardBella: Thank you greatly. Always nice to have people compliment the fic.

Mr. Skellington: First off love the name, shout out to one of my favourite Tim Burton characters, as for your review, spacing needs to be fixed up? Perhaps you could explain a little more? Which spacing are you referring to? As for the paragraph breaks I tried to add more into this chapter, any better?

Vukk: I'll not burn myself out, don't worry, but as the chapters can get quite long the quality does tend to vary, I shortened this one so hopefully it's a bit better. I already had this whole scene mapped out in my mind when I saw your review, it was amusing to see you thinking along the same lines. As for why it wasn't mentioned in the last chapter? Mostly because they had a hectic day and Dan and Emma wanted to give the two teens some time to be happy. I do agree with you about the treatment of non-magic folk in JKR's canon, I wanted to give Dan and Emma a spotlight to point out some of the better parts of human nature and our capability for love. Magic doesn't make wizards and witches better, just different.

Vexit: Ah… See… damn. I can't actually give you a good answer for this… just read the next chapter when it comes out :D

Rhiannon Lovely: I hope the length of this one doesn't disappoint you too much. I like the quantity of the last chapter but I felt the quality was lacking especially after re reading it and getting some reviews. I'm trying to go for a nice balance and I hope this struck it nicely. As for the ship… yes well… I personally think the Ron/Hermione ship at the end of the canon series was a bit forced, as if JKR had originally planned a HHr ending but ended up being forced to change it, /Shrug, that's what fanfics are for though right? To rewrite things as we see fit :D

JHarry: That's what I needed to hear, thanks for your concise review. That was a big part of my decision making for this chapter.

Old Master Mage: More is coming soon :D, I'll always be a fan of Emma Watson, (Won't we all?) But she was just… well she kinda Nevilled really really hard. It was like… first movie, perfect, second movie, perfect, third move BAM sex appeal. *Rolleyes*

Rasberry Dreams: Well…. If you're reading this, which I imagine you probably aren't, you're quite welcome, sorry it's not for you, but thanks anyway :D

AnotherBoardUser: Haha thanks. Nothing more satisfying than someone appreciating the way I handle that old fart. I plan to go into that issue more in depth as the fic progresses, as his motivations were not so black and white.

ButterMilkStar: I prefer to see Ron as the bumbling idiot, but as stated I needed him a bit more mature for this fic, so there he is. We'll see some more of him next chapter and you guys can tell me how well you think I'm handling the character.

As always thanks everyone for reading and reviewing, I see you guys adding follows and fav's. Can't thank you all enough for the support you're showing for this humble little fic. I hope this chapter does all of you justice, and that the next one doesn't drive everyone away *Chews nails nervously* see you next time!

LGreymark


	5. The Quidditch world cup

AN: Disclaimer as per usual, well, I managed to stick to my goal for last chapter and stuck to the 9K mark almost exactly. But then again there wasn't really as much going on in that chapter. This chapter… let's project for 11K shall we?

An2: A point about dates. I'm making a few ballpark assumptions here and even if they're wrong just assume that they're canon in my universe, makes things easier. Hogwarts students take the train to school on September 1st of each year and the train leaves at ten o'clock from Platform nine and three quarters. The summer term the following year ends then on June 30th and Students return on the train on July 1st. Meaning that Harry would have spent a month back at the Dursleys before going to Oxford on the 31st, (The day after his birthday in my canon, I realize that in JKR's world he's born on the 31st but the dates just didn't seem to line up nicely for me when I was writing the first chapter.), the Quidditch world cup final is on the evening of August 25th, six days before everyone returns to school.

-:-

Chapter four: The Quidditch world cup

The three weeks between Harry's arrival at Oxford and the Quidditch world cup final were filled with happiness, he and Hermione would often spend their time wandering the parks and streets of the town, having lunch at café's and talking the days away. In the afternoons they buckled down and tackled their holiday homework. On the weekends the four of them would spend their time together, Harry getting to know his future new parents, and them getting to know their future son. Hermione of course seemed to constantly be brimming with joy and laughter, happy beyond belief that Harry was free of the horrors of Number four Privet Drive.

Hermione helped Harry buy a whole new wardrobe of jeans trousers, shirts jackets and a few pairs of shoes for different occasions. Harry was especially thankful for this last item as it meant he had some durable trainers that he could resume his morning runs with. As at school he ran at least once around the black lake to keep his fitness up during the Quidditch season. The idea that he could get a head start on that training made him excited. Hermione offered to accompany him on his morning runs at one point, but soon found that their comparative fitness levels were miles apart. Instead Hermione took to jogging a shorter route until she could match his ability and they could run together. That didn't happen until nearly the end of their holiday but she didn't mind, being fit was doing plenty for her self-esteem and she felt healthier every day.

Their daily routine typically involved rising early at around seven for their runs, which took them both half an hour but Harry tended to cover a bit more ground. They'd return home for breakfast and to see Emma and Dan off to work. After cleaning up, including showers, and getting changed, they would take the bus into Oxford proper where they walked around the streets enjoying the architecture of the older buildings and window shopping in the CBD. Occasionally Harry or Hermione would buy each other small gifts, charm bracelets and other pieces of keepsake jewellery for Hermione and other more manly gifts for Harry. After returning home to their homework and dinner they would sit around with the elder Grangers and watch TV well into the night. At some time or other Hermione would fall asleep curled up in Harry's arms. Sometimes he would simply let her be and continue chatting with Dan and Emma, and sometimes he would carry her up to her room and they would spend a few minutes laying in each-other's arms, sharing hushed conversation and small kisses.

Once Dan had pulled Harry aside and had a very awkward discussion with him about sex and reproduction. What followed was a fairly frank discussion with Hermione and they both agreed that they were far too young for such things. But as Hermione told Harry with a sly grin, 'That didn't mean the Hermione in his dreams and fantasies always had to be fully clothed.' The young man had choked slightly at that as images of his girlfriend, his very naked girlfriend, rushed through his mind. They kept their relationship chaste however, Harry had often felt the urge to do more but he would be damned if he ruined this. Hermione wanted to wait and had given him very good reasons to agree with her. He would love her in his own way and she in hers.

A few days before the pair were due to ship out to Ron's for the Quidditch world cup and the last week of the Holidays their Hogwarts letters came by owl. Their trip into Diagon alley took most of the day and the four of them decided to see a movie while they were in London. Forrest Gump was airing for the first time that year and they all thoroughly enjoyed the experience. It was a tearful August 24th as Dan and Emma said goodbye to the two teens. During the holiday Harry had become very attached to the pair of them and they rather thought that they were beginning to truly love the young man. He had slotted so easily into their family lives that they really couldn't see any other result.

Arthur Weasley had pulled some strings with his contacts at the ministry to connect the Granger's home to the floo network for an hour that day. Forewarned then, the family was sitting in the living room chatting sadly and saying their goodbyes. Harry and Hermione were both equal parts excited and saddened, they would both miss the elder Grangers, but at the same time the Quidditch world cup, seeing the Weasley's and returning to school, were all things they were both looking forward to. Harry had talked to Hermione about Quidditch several times over the holidays, helping her understand the excitement he felt for the game and trying to explain some of the more esoteric and nuanced levels of the game. In the end he had resorted to a book, namely the 1679 charter of official Quidditch rules. The modern addition had several new rules included while some of the more archaic traditions (Like female players being banned from the sport.) had been removed.

The book had been a great hit and Hermione had asked for more. Harry had happily obliged with a mail order copy of the Quidditch observer's strategy handbook, detailing some of the more technical aspects of the sport. Hermione had delved deep into the lore of Harry's favourite pastime and had soon gained a greater understanding of the sport. She was now looking forward to the match in her own right and was eager to see some of the advanced tactics and strategies detailed in the books. Harry was ecstatic that finally Hermione was seeing some of the aspects of Quidditch that had created such a passion in the young man. And several times the pair had discussed strategy near the Granger's fire in their nightly talks. She still refused to allow him to take her up on his broom however, maintaining that her place was with both feet firmly on the ground.

-:-

Harry was sitting on the couch in the Granger's living room Hermione cuddled into his side with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Her eyes told a different story though and if he had looked he would have seen her sadness at having to leave her parents behind again. She didn't mind, Harry knew full well how she felt and they had talked about it for several hours the previous night, cuddled up in her bed. Harry had taken to changing in to his pyjamas before coming back into her room to cuddle. It gave her time to do the same and they were both more comfortable that way. They had woken the next morning, with Harry's arms wrapped around her waist with her head on his chest, using it as a pillow. Realizing they had fallen asleep together they decided to make the most of it and didn't get up until ten. Hermione had been mortified when Emma had poked her head in at nine but she had reassured her daughter that Dan and Emma both were surprised this hadn't happened sooner and were quite happy for them. As long as nothing got out of control and they did things they would regret later there was no real problem with them sharing a bed.

When they joined her parents downstairs just after eleven having showered and changed both of them were feeling quite content with their night and knew that it had been the best night's sleep either of them had ever had. Breakfast had been a quiet affair all of the family lost in their own thoughts. Though Harry and Hermione had shared secret (Well not really secret but they at least thought they were being sneaky about it), looks across the table at one another. When Dan and Emma started imitating them in an exaggerated fashion the four of them had shared a good laugh.

Now of course they were waiting for the Weasley's to arrive. They would have taken the initiative and gone themselves but there was no floo powder in the house. Hermione looked up at Harry's smiling face as he talked and she too smiled softly. He had come in leaps and bounds since that first night in Oxford and the two of them were very comfortable talking with each other about anything. Hermione had taken the time to explain to him about her monthly cycle and after getting over his initial knee jerk worry and slight revulsion about the concept of her loosing blood every month he had been quite supportive and had looked after her the previous week when it had hit.

He had been lovely to her and she couldn't have asked for a happier holiday, as for Harry's happiness? She knew he was happy. She could see it in his eyes every day, when she barrelled into his room in the mornings, when they shared meals or talked together. When they shared glances over homework and especially when she had woken up in his arms that morning. She had achieved her goal and made this the best holiday of his life.

Grinning she snuggled deeper into his arms, only to jerk back, startled as the fireplace exploded into a riot of green flames. Harry took it in stride having seen, and used, floo travel before. But the Grangers were all startled and Dan had a look of worry on his face. But when Arthur stepped out of the flames with a broad grin on his face the family all rose to greet him and the twins who had come along for the ride.

-:-

George hated floo travel; it was a sooty foul affair that made his eyes itch. But it was fast and easy, two things that the wizarding world excelled in. The room he was disgorged into after the rapid spinning had ceased was altogether alien to the young man. The pictures on the mantle were static, the TV looked like nothing he had ever seen, and the harsh light from the iridescent bulb in the ceiling was totally different from the gas lamps and fires he was used to. What really stunned him though was the handholding going on between Harry and Hermione. His twin's voice rang in his ear in a slightly singsong fashion  
>"You owe me a sickle!"<p>

George fumed silently as he rummaged around in his robes for a moment flicking the small silver coin at Fred's face. His mood brightened however when Harry looked over and with a broad grin proffered his hand for George to shake. The twins shared a slight grin before swinging into action  
>"Mr Potter, simply spiffing to see you again"<br>"You simply must tell us where you got those shoes, truly outrageous."  
>"I've never seen the likes of this coat…"<br>George shook the grinning teen's hand as Fred patted him on the back and talked loudly in his ear, glancing sideways George saw Hermione stifling laughter at the twins' antics and immediately switched targets.  
>"Hermione it's been so long. You didn't tell me you'd taken up with this tosser?"<br>Fred worked in tandem with his brother standing obnoxiously between the two younger teens as George made a show of taking Hermione's hand and kissing the back with aplomb  
>"Perhaps you might allow myself to whisk you away into a torrid romance from which neither of us shall see the light of day?"<p>

Hermione blushed crimson and swatted at George's shoulder before prodding Fred in the ribs, George's twin acted wounded as he danced away slightly. Hermione looked George in the eye briefly, but playfully, before snagging Harry for a quick kiss  
>"Sorry boys, I've got everything I need right here." George pouted comically and hung his head for a moment before looking up and properly greeting the pair. The twins had their fun, but they understood that only so much was necessary and they truly did want to know how their friends were.<p>

-:-

Dan watched in amusement as the two young men with flaming red hair joked around. His pride in his daughter when she stood up to their jokes and staked her claim on Harry was quite strong, especially when he remembered letters from her daughter mentioning these two boys with not a small amount of affection. That crush it seemed was long gone and she was more than happy with Harry at her side. Arthur was a different story entirely. His small inquisitive eyes peered from behind his glasses around the room. In normal circumstances Dan would have thought it quite rude that the man was inspecting his house so openly. But when the balding man spotted the power outlets and enthused over the plugs Dan realized it was simply the 'Pureblood ignorance' Hermione talked about so often. Sighing he got the man's attention  
>"Arthur, good to see you again. I hope your brood isn't too much trouble?"<p>

The redhead turned and smiled wanly  
>"Not nearly as much trouble as I fear, but far more than I hope for. What about you? Hermione and Harry give you any stress?"<br>Dan was taken aback; he was so casual asking after the two teens, did he have no idea what Harry went through in Surrey? Emma came to his rescue and answered the question with a simple statement about how much of a joy Harry had been to have there and how happy Hermione had been during the last few weeks. Arthur nodded, seemingly satisfied, and turned to the four teens who were happily chatting away.  
>"Right you lot, ready to go?"<br>Dan shared a glance with his wife, they would talk later about this, was Hermione the only one who knew about Harry's life away from Hogwarts? It was simultaneously a disturbing and relieving thought. Disturbing that no one had checked up on the young man during his life, reliving that Arthur wasn't so callous to ignore the pain harry had been through. He was simply ignorant. He was knocked back abruptly as Hermione crashed into him for a quick goodbye hug. He kissed her forehead and shook Harry's hand over her back.  
>"We'll see you two at Christmas I hope?"<br>Hermione nodded fervently and Harry smiled, answering for the both of them.  
>"Absolutely, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." As Hermione grabbed her mother for a slightly emotional hug Harry stepped closer and gave Dan a tight hug as well. Dan was a little shocked but took it in stride. His own eyes misting slightly as Harry whispered<br>"Stay safe dad. I'll look after you're little girl."

Dan knew then that Harry meant that as more than just Hermione's boyfriend, he meant it as a brother too. He would look after her and make sure she was okay, and nothing would dissuade him from that task. Dan knew Hermione was safe in his capable hands, literally. He spotted Arthur's curious look as the two separated, Harry being swept up by Emma for their own hug, and smiled  
>"He's been looking forward to this Quidditch world cup of yours. I hope everything goes well. I don't suppose England is playing are they?"<br>Arthur chuckled at that before answering in his soft baritone  
>"No we got wiped out in the playoffs, Ireland vs. Bulgaria. We'll be in green."<p>

Dan nodded, he had no idea about Quidditch, although Harry had promised to teach him what he could, but it would have been nice to know England was dominating in some kind of sporting field. Dan was forever frustrated as the New Zealanders and Americans consistently beat them in the America's cup sailing competition. The football world cup was a write off and their rugby was little better. He would just have to hope they brought home some medals in the Olympics later that year.

The two teens were about ready to leave and the twins had already left with their luggage. Arthur shook Dan's hand once more and gave Emma a brief hug before going through the floo. Harry and Hermione looked reluctant to go, but Emma was the one who eventually prodded them into the floo,  
>"You two stay safe now. I'll not be happy if either of you is injured before Christmas okay? I know that accidents happen alarmingly often when you coop six hundred teenagers up together at the same time but try to be careful, for me?"<br>Dan chuckled as Hermione rolled her eyes  
>"You're talking to Harry Potter mum; I don't think he can physically avoid the hospital wing. I'll do my best to look after him but no promises."<p>

They all gave each other a hug once more before the two teens left, using some floo powder Arthur had given them just before hand. When they were gone Emma turned to him with a worried expression  
>"Are we the only ones who know about what happened to Harry? How is that even possible?"<br>Dan wrapped his wife up in a comforting hug, murmuring to her as he did so.  
>"I don't know love, I don't know."<p>

-:-

Hermione instantly loathed the room she was expected to share with Ginny. The girl was more than a little obsessed with the 'Boy Who Lived' nonsense that Harry did his best to avoid. There were pictures of him all over the walls and several magazine cut outs of articles relating to him. Hermione had no idea where the pictures came from but they all had Harry in a regal pose that she knew her best friend would never adopt except in jest. Usually she'd like being surrounded by pictures of her best friend and boyfriend, but these made her faintly sick. This wasn't Harry; this was some horrific facsimile of what the press made him out to be.

Harry was shy and thoughtful, but brave and capable of being a great leader when he needed to be. He wasn't arrogant or boastful; rarely even did he like his picture taken. She had a pair of Muggle photos of him that she kept safe, they were of the pair of them in the living room of her parent's Oxford home, just cuddling on the couch and talking in low tones to each other. They were candid and showed off his best traits, his calmness around her, his handsome features, and his tender love of her. They made her heart flutter just thinking about them, and they were a damn sight better than the garbage surrounding her.

She sighed; this was going to be harder than she thought. She and Harry had their routine, their comfortable camaraderie and sweet talks at night cuddled up in her bed. They had their morning runs and breakfast with their parents. They couldn't have that here, there was no way Molly would let them share a bed. When they got to school of course things would be even harder. She supposed that she could sneak into the boys' dorm to wake him up early in the mornings but she really didn't want to. That place smelt… like teenage male, it wasn't pleasant. It wasn't even like she could ask that of him, the girl's dorm wouldn't even let him in, and for good reason, who knew what he might see in the early hours of the morning. Lavender still slept in the bluff.

Hermione brushed those thoughts away, things would be harder, but they would cope. They loved each other; a little sacrifice in their routine wouldn't kill them. She grimaced mentally at the pun as she sat down on her bed. At least she had a bed in this room, Harry still slept on a camp stretcher while he was here. She wondered why they couldn't just use Charlie's room. He wasn't here; they could move a second bed in there if Molly absolutely refused to let them share one… She would talk to the Weasley matron about it. Flopping back on the bed Hermione sighed softly, it wasn't going to be happening tonight at any rate. At least she had the memory of waking up in Harry's arms from that morning.

She had woken up with a distinct feeling of comfort. It was like something was cradling her in exactly the right way for her to have no disagreements with how her body was lying. Then she was suddenly aware of a small sensation on her tummy, a circle being drawn with one, very warm, very soft, finger. Her heart fluttered and her own hand moved from its place lying limply in front of her to her tummy where she encountered a pair of arms wrapped snugly around her waist. All of a sudden she was conscious of the length of someone's muscular, but still slightly thin, chest pressed against her back. Legs tangled with hers, and a strong firm, something, pressed between the cheeks of her ass.

She didn't want to think about what that was. She knew what it was of course, but thinking about it would lead to things neither of them was ready for. She was well aware of morning wood and the fact that Harry was probably just as nervous as she was, but sweet enough not to move so as not to wake her and make things awkward. It's a bit late for that now, she thought with a bit of amusement. Deciding to take the bull by the horns she turned over in his arms and looked into his eyes. They were slightly open and the green flash of his irises sent a shiver running through her body. His lips pressed against hers gently and his warm husky voice met her ears.  
>"Good morning sweetheart."<p>

Her mind plucked at that endearment and her heart fluttered again, it sounded so… right, rolling from his lips like that. As if it belonged there, it meant her, Hermione. She was his sweetheart and that made her unbelievably happy and proud. Her own voice scratchy from sleep, answered him  
>"Good morning my handsome man. I can tell you're happy to see me."<br>To her amusement and relief Harry blushed crimson, he was well aware and had done his best not to draw attention to it. That simple fact meant so much to her. Not only was that he so attracted to her that… that… happened. But that he was considerate enough not to push the issue or draw attention to it.

His voice was very small and apologetic when he replied  
>"Sorry Hermione, I can't really help it."<br>She smiled and rubbed the tip of their noses together, enjoying the sensation.  
>"I know, and its fine, I'm happy you're that attracted to me." She paused to kiss him softly, "And thank you for being so considerate and not doing anything with it."<br>He looked slightly scandalized at that  
>"I would never do anything like that, not until we're ready" He blushed harder at that and glanced down in his usual way. Unfortunately that meant he looked straight down her nightshirt. His breath hitched and his eyes immediately snapped back to hers, she felt his erection twitch on her tummy and she grinned, flattered that he was so attracted to her.<p>

"Hmmm, it's so tempting to do something about that. You had best find a way to make the little guy calm down before I change my mind about waiting."  
>Harry looked apologetic and closed his eyes for a moment. To Hermione's very great amazement she felt his firmness recede until she couldn't actually feel it anymore. When his eyes opened again she gave him a quick kiss as a reward before asking<br>"How did you do that exactly? I wasn't aware boys had so much… control"  
>He chuckled and said two words that made her understand immediately and laugh out loud in honest mirth.<br>"Naked Filch."

Miles away in Ginny's bedroom Hermione still couldn't help but laugh. Those words had been so unexpected and funny that the two had shared a good long chuckle, eventually, when they had quieted the proceeded to talk in the same hushed tones that made her shiver in longing. She had loved that time, holding each other close and softly talking about anything that came to mind. It was sweet and romantic, she missed it already. She was broken from her thoughts as Ginny burst into the room and flounced onto her bed, a look of disgruntlement on her face. The young girl lay on her back and faced the ceiling, sighing melodramatically; Hermione knew what was coming next.

"When will he ever notice me?" Hermione rolled her eyes and sat up, eyeing the girl on the other side of the room with a hint of annoyance.  
>"Why do you think he would? All you ever seem to do in his presence is squeak and run away. Harry isn't interested in fan girls you know." That wasn't strictly true, Hermione had, once upon a time, been a Harry Potter fan girl too. She had read the official line on him in some of her Magical world background material when she was barely eleven years old.<p>

Doing the math on their birthdays she realized he would be joining Hogwarts the same year as her and wanted to meet the boy who had made the world safe for her to go to school and learn. Immediately after meeting the boy of course she had become his fan in a very different sense. He was nothing like those ministry approved stories; rather he was kind and gentle, honest and sweet. All of those things were, and are, very rare in an eleven year old boy. Later of course she would find out that he was actually more timid than anything else and his sweetness was borne of a craving for affection that he had never received.

When Hermione found out she had decided that she would give him the affection and care that he needed and craved. She would be his friend and she would look after him. She knew now that Harry was truly in love with her, and he was very interested in this fan girl, because she was a fan of Harry Potter. Not the Boy Who Lived. She had once tried to explain the difference to Ginny. But the girl had simply come back with: 'But Harry is the Boy Who Lived.' That beyond anything else had frustrated Hermione. The Boy Who Lived didn't even exist. He was a fabrication of the Ministry, propaganda. Yes Harry had survived a curse that had stripped his parents from him. That wasn't what made him extraordinary, his personality was, and she loved him for it.

Ginny meanwhile wasn't happy with that answer  
>"Well what else can I do when you're always draped all over him?"<br>Hermione bristled, who did this… girl, think she was, the future missus Potter? That thought smote Hermione like a ton of very pointy bricks. That was exactly, what Ginny thought she was. She had everything planned out, right down to the children's names; she could see it now, Ginny Potter, arm ornament extraordinaire. Despite herself Hermione started laughing at that thought, though all this did was serve to enrage Ginny further, and the words that came out of the girl's mouth shocked Hermione to the core.

"You mudblood bitch! You're shagging him aren't you? That's why you're all cosy with him, you let him pop your cherry. What do you want, huh? To get knocked up so you can have little scraggly haired brown eyed half-blood kids with him? I can't believe…" What exactly Ginny couldn't believe Hermione will never know, because at that moment she reached across the small space and slapped Ginny, hard. The younger girl sprawled backwards on her bed howling in outrage and the door burst open again Harry standing there looking like he was about to commit a murder.

Hermione near flew into his arms, she wasn't crying but it was a near thing. Ginny's words had cut deep; she never realized that the pureblood dogma towards muggleborns was so ingrained, even in the so called 'Blood traitor' families. Harry's arms went around her reflexively but he was still eyeing Ginny with the most potent look of rage Hermione had ever seen on his face. She could feel the fine hairs on her arms standing on end and could almost feel her magic being drawn to Harry like he was a sink for power. Abruptly she realized that he was losing control of his magic and she roughly pushed him back, kicking the door shut behind them, trying to break his concentration on the redhead who had inflamed his rage. She felt his taut muscles loose much of their tenseness when he lost line of sight of Ginny and his attention turned sharply to her despite Ginny's outraged screams in the background. He held her close and rocked her gently from side to side as she battled not to start crying again.

A loud clearing of a throat came from her left and she saw Molly standing there looking mollified.  
>"Are you okay dear?"<br>Hermione shakily nodded her head and then buried it back into Harry's chest, not trusting herself to speak. She sensed more than heard Molly opening the door to Ginny's room and closes it behind her before the screams abruptly stopped. Hermione guessed the Weasley mother had used a silencing charm on the room at large. She felt a hand, not Harry's but still masculine, pat her back awkwardly.

"Sorry Hermione, we had no idea she would go off like that."  
>Ron's voice cut through her mortification and distress and she looked up weakly to see him with a shocked expression. Slowly Hermione disentangled herself from Harry but stayed in his embrace as she turned to face Ron, conflicting emotions running through her, did he think of her the same way? Was she just a mudblood to him too? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.<br>"It's okay Ron. I'm a big girl, I can cope." She laughed weakly, "As long as my big strong man is here to keep me safe." She glanced up at Harry to see him smiling at her, sharing in the joke. They both knew that sometimes they just needed the other to be strong for them and hold them against the hatred in the world. It had happened before and she was sure it would happen again. She looked back at Ron and asked somewhat blithely  
>"Shall we go to your room to talk? I don't much want to be around when Molly finally comes out of there."<p>

Ron nodded and led the three of them upstairs to his room just beneath the attic. It was a tiny place, barely big enough for the bed and the camp stretcher with a bit of space in between. Harry sat on the stretcher and Hermione curled up in his lap. Ron gestured to them, but spoke to Harry  
>"I guess you finally got your head out of your arse then. Happy?"<br>Harry nodded and gently kissed Hermione's cheek  
>"Never more so than I am now. What about you mate? How've the holidays been?"<p>

Ron chuckled and looked out the window  
>"Pretty much what you overheard just then, Ginny's been going off about how you don't give her the time of day and that you two have some kind of 'bond' after you saved her from Riddle back in second year. We thought she'd be more restrained with you actually in the house" He rolled his eyes, "Apparently not. I tell you she'd been a right pain in the arse that one. Doesn't know when to shut up about this or that, thinks she's destined to be the wife of the 'Boy Who Lived', Think she's barking up the wrong tree, but then again I've had to deal with Hermione making googly eyes at you since the troll back in first year."<p>

Hermione blushed at that but Harry just gave her a brief squeeze. She piped up then, deciding that they'd had enough of that conversation  
>"So when are we leaving tomorrow?"<br>Ron looked equal parts enthused and resigned, and when he replied she understood why, he had never been an early riser like her or Harry.  
>"Got to be up at sodding six am, we've got to ruddy walk for an hour to get to the portkey we'll be taking to the campground. We should get there around ten. Then we have to wait all day in the tents till the game at six in the evening. It'll be a twelve hour day before they even kick off."<p>

-:-

As Harry listened to Ron discussing Quidditch with Hermione, much to Ron's apparent bemusement, he tried to get his temper under control. He was well aware that he had nearly lost control of his magic back outside of Ginny's room. He had to have a better handle on himself. If he went off like that every time someone insulted Hermione or made disparaging remarks the entirety of Slytherin house would be wiped out before the first week of school was over. In his head he went over all the things Hermione had helped him learn about calming himself down, deep breaths, soothing thoughts. Bring up a happy memory. Just like casting a patronus.

The walls were thin in the Weasley household and Harry Ron and Molly had heard the entire conversation between the two girls. Fortunately Arthur and the Twins were out doing something or other in the fields surrounding the house, Percy was at work and Bill was organising something in Diagon alley. Harry was brought out of his musings by a laugh from Hermione.  
>"What's so funny sweetheart?"<br>Hermione took a moment to compose herself and Harry glanced at Ron who looked confused and slightly grumpy, Hermione broke into a fit of silent giggles as Ron looked at Harry helplessly  
>"She knows more about Quidditch than I do."<p>

That set Harry off too and the three of them had a good hearty laugh. Harry couldn't help but jab at the bemused redhead  
>"You know that when Hermione sinks her teeth into a topic she learns everything there is to know about it. I've been getting her mail order books from a variety of sources. She's probably better read on the subject then anyone in our year."<br>Ron opened and closed his mouth several times with a lackadaisical expression in his eyes  
>"You got her to sink her teeth into Quidditch?" His incredulous question finally came after several seconds of laughter from the pair on the camp stretcher.<br>"Yeah I did, turns out all she needed was a prod in the right direction."

-:-

Ron was stunned, absolutely stunned. Not only was Harry laughing more than he had ever seen, not to mention actually smiling, but Hermione was suddenly a Quidditch buff. What exactly had happened in the three weeks since he had last heard from his friends? And where exactly had this imposter put Hermione? Was she safe? Did she need help? He supposed it didn't help that the two were laughing rather heartily at him. Adopting a mock frown he said in his sternest tones.  
>"It's not nice to laugh at the misfortunes of others you two."<p>

That only made Hermione laugh harder and set Harry off as well; Ron huffed and rolled back onto his bed. Flicking his wrist over his face he said in an overly dramatic tone  
>"Even my friends desert my authority for the humour of laughter."<br>Hermione's laughs redoubled at this bit of drama, whereas Harry's laughs had ceased to make sound and he was just sitting there with his head dipped eyes closed moth wide open and a slight gasping coming from him every few seconds followed by a long choked up exhale.

Eventually the three managed to calm down and Harry and Hermione both wiped tears of laughter from their eyes as they chuckled out the last moments of their laughing fit. Ron raised a shaggy eyebrow  
>"Are you two done yet?"<br>Harry shot him a look, as if to congratulate him on helping to take their minds off the situation with Ginny. Ron felt a bit proud, he might not have Harry's raw power or Hermione's skill with knowledge, but at least he could make his friends laugh.

He sat up properly and eyed them across the room.  
>"So how did…" He waved at them "This happen?"<p>

-:-

The three of them talked for a few more hours, discussing the various aspects of their holidays, eventually they were all called down to dinner. Slightly apprehensive Hermione took her seat next to Harry and Ron flanked him on his other side. Ginny was sitting across from them looking down at the table with a venomous expression. Fred and George were sitting on either side of her. They looked normal enough but they would occasionally send a creepily well synchronized dirty look at their sister and then an equally reassuring and apologetic one at Harry and Hermione respectfully.

Bill and Percy were sitting opposite each other on the other side of Ron, and Molly was sitting next to George with Arthur next to Hermione. When the three sat down Arthur turned and looked at Hermione with an apologetic expression.  
>"We're sorry for our daughter's behaviour earlier. We understand that you'd most likely rather not sleep in her room tonight and we've moved your bed and things to Charlie's old room. I hope that will be okay while you stay here with us."<p>

She nodded gratefully and sent Arthur a winning smile;  
>"Thank you, I didn't want to say anything but things were going to have been uncomfortable otherwise."<br>Arthur and Molly looked relieved that she and Harry were calm and not demanding anything from Ginny. They were obviously both well aware of how Harry felt about that particular insult. Let alone the other things Ginny had said. The food was, as always, absolutely delicious and despite Ginny's angry expression Dinner was a calm affair that left everyone feeling quite sated. Afterwards Molly took Hermione and Harry aside and sat her down in the living room after shooing Ron back to her son's room.

"I don't know how far you two are in your relationship or what you've been allowed to get away with at your parent's home." Here she took a quick fortifying breath  
>"But Arthur and I have decided that if you want to, the pair of you can share the smaller tent tomorrow night at the world cup, and Harry can stay with you for a while before bed tonight if you'd like. Just so long as clothes stay on, the door stays open and he's back in Ron's room before sleep. I'd like you both to promise me that nothing of a… inappropriate nature will happen either here or at the cup. We trust you both but we feel we at least need to ask."<p>

Harry and Hermione readily agreed and so it was that despite all their worries during the day they were still able to carry out their usual routine of snuggling together before sleep. Harry made doubly sure to head back to Ron's room before he got too sleepy. Neither he nor Hermione wanted to betray Molly and Arthur's trust, especially after they had been so generous. They both understood that this was an extension of the pair's apology to Hermione for Ginny's behaviour and they treated it as such. Not something to be tossed away because they didn't have the self-control to make sure Harry returned to his bed in Ron's room that night.

-:-

The next morning dawned bright and early. Ron Weasley however had decided he was sleeping in. Despite Harry's best attempts he couldn't get the redhead up via conventional methods, so, to save time, he simply levitated the boy out of his bed, then dumped him unceremoniously back down onto it. Ron gave his friend a foul look but was at least awake by that point and had no real chance of getting any more sleep. Harry was already dressed and had headed downstairs to slip into Hermione's impromptu room. Half an hour later when everyone was finally up and having breakfast Hermione and Harry came downstairs looking happy and content, but not overly ruffled. Truthfully all they had done was cuddle in the single bed and talk, just like they normally would in the mornings at the Granger household.

Breakfast was a quiet affair with Harry and Ron shooting each other playfully dirty looks and muttered threats. Ginny was ignoring everyone completely as she had been banned from going to the world cup match because of her outburst the day before. Eventually everyone had their overnight packs on their backs and was walking out the door. Mrs Weasley was refusing to talk to Fred and George as they had hidden her wand and placed fake replacement wands all over the house. She had argued with them at length about what they were doing with their lives and both of the boys left the house without a backward glance. Ron, Harry and Hermione were all in good spirits and were chatting amicably as they meandered down the road after Bill and Arthur who were taking the lead. Percy was behind the twins and still had his nose stuck in some piece of parchment or other, he never seemed to put his work down.

They had been walking for nearly an hour when they were hailed by a tall distinguished looking man. He was flanked by an almost equally tall, but somewhat younger man, who the trio assumed was his son. They were introduced to Cedric and Amos and the party of ten quickly set about looking for what was described as 'rubbish.' Their portkey turned out to be a manky old boot which, after a moment of discussion everyone managed to get a finger on. Seconds later Harry felt an almighty tug about him and with a start realized they were hurtling through the air.

The trip felt like it took a few minutes and then very abruptly the whole party was slammed to the ground in another field similar to the one they had just left. The party split then, Amos and Cedric heading off to their campground and the Weasley/Potter/Granger party heading off to find theirs. Upon arriving at their campsite Arthur announced that they were putting up their tent by hand. What ensued of course was around half an hour of hilarity as they decided on a competition. Harry and Hermione would erect their tent, and the Weasley's would put up theirs the party who lost had to delegate someone to go get water.

Harry and Hermione weren't so much as concerned about winning as they were making sure their tent didn't fall down in the night. But even as they worked harry realized he had come off somewhat better off in the bargain of who slept where. The tent he and Hermione would be sharing was quite small, but they would probably sleep together anyway so it didn't bother them. But how six Weasley men were all going to fit into the other tent was beyond him. Percy of course was nowhere to be found, probably sniffing after the heels of his boss, Barty Crouch.

In the end the Weasleys couldn't make heads or tails of how to assemble their tent and Harry and Hermione took pity on them helping them get the thing up. When Arthur rubbed his hands together with a look of anticipation and went inside Harry and Hermione both put it down to his usual childish wonder at all things Muggle. But after watching six men/boys go into the tent without obvious difficulty they felt they had to peek in and see what was going on. The tent as it turned out was quite lavish and after inspecting their own abode they shot a grin at each other. That night might actually be one where they could enjoy each other's company without threat of being walked in on; a last hurrah as it was, before the infinitely more separate accommodations at Hogwarts.

Ron it seems had been delegated to go get water for tea and other things and Harry and Hermione decided to go with him, more to see what else was going on in the campsite more than anything else. The wizarding tents they saw all around them were more than a little extravagant; everyone seemed to be trying to one up the people on either side of them. The trio met several school friends including Dean and Seamus, Lavender, who whilst they were talking couldn't take her eyes off Ron (Much to Hermione's amusement), Oliver wood who enthusiastically introduced Harry to his family, and several others who all seemed to be caught up in the spirit of things.

Later when they had returned to the tents Harry and Hermione politely excused them so that they could get some time alone to chat and snuggle before the game that evening. They made the most of the time getting in some slightly heated kissing and Hermione was even brave enough to slide her hand down the back of Harry's jeans to squeeze his ass. When night fell over the campsite the magical peddlers broke out in full force with their wares out for sale. Harry bought Ron and Hermione Omnioculars which Hermione privately thought would be excellent for watching Harry's ass as he played Quidditch and were more than worth the two galleons harry had paid for them. When he mentioned them being an early birthday present she couldn't help but snigger under her breath.

Laden down with merchandise the eight of them all made their way to the stadium at half five. Their tickets were checked and they were told to go all the way to the top box. When they emerged into the box Harry took in an audible breath. They were so high up he could barely make out the people in the lower stands, he was immediately thankful for his purchase of the magical binoculars hanging around his neck.

The eight of them settled into their seats, they were the first ones there and chatted comfortably amongst themselves. Their good mood evaporated when the Malfoys joined the box. Soon after that Fudge and his Bulgarian/Irish counterparts joined the box, as well as a Crouch, Bagman and two very tall pale skinned and dark haired wizards. One looked in the prime of his wizarding life, mid-forties, big bulging muscles, a healthy pallor to his skin, and excellent enthusiasm for the sport. The other was thin and his robes clung to him poorly. Similar to the way Harry's old clothes hung off his frame. The man's hair was long enough in the front to obscure his eyes and while the two men were clearly related, they could not have been more different. They were introduced as Lycergan and Tyseus Krum. Father and older brother of the international Quidditch star.

Ron was a touch star struck but managed to hold it together as Bagman began addressing the stadium, introducing the cup and inviting the Irish mascots onto the pitch. The leprechauns did their fly by and the golden rain caused a touch of consternation when several of the heavy coins nearly brained Hermione. Harry used his jacket as a sort of umbrella for the two of them as Hermione laughed at Ron and the twins as they scrambled for coins.  
>"Its leprechaun gold boys, it'll disappear after a few hours."<p>

The three sat back in their seats looking faintly disgruntled as the Bulgarian mascots flounced onto the field. The veelas were a strange sight for harry and While he went to the edge of the box, it wasn't out of lust as the other boys in the box. Rather it was out of curiosity. He trained his Omnioculars on them and saw that while they looked ethereally beautiful there was something… off about them. He couldn't put his finger on it and it made him feel slightly uneasy. When he returned to his seat a moment later looking slightly worried he felt something warm tackle his midriff, looking down he saw Hermione beaming up at him. She leaned close and whispered in his ear.  
>"Only people in love aren't affected by the Veela allure. It's a weird way for it to happen but you just proved your love for me beyond any doubt." Harry grinned and gave her a quick kiss, laughing as Mrs Malfoy tugged both Lucius and Draco back into their seats by the ears.<p>

The match of course was a strange affair, Ireland winning soundly but Krum executing a perfect manoeuvre to catch the snitch with no real competition from Lynch. The Weasley party was in excellent spirits as they returned to the campsite and settled down for the evening, Harry and Hermione turning in early to spend extra time with each other before they had to go back to Ottery St Catchpole tomorrow. There was to be no peaceful repose for them that night however.

-:-

Harry was awoken abruptly in the middle of the night by the sounds of screaming. Instantly he was wide awake and shaking Hermione's shoulder trying to get her up. A moment later they were both shrugging on jackets and slipping into the Weasley tent. The other six members of their group were already awake and preparing to make a run for the forest. Fred and George were protesting with their father who had instructed them to get into the forest and stay safe, they wanted to go and fight the death eaters. Harry's eyebrows rose, death eaters?  
>"Excuse me, Death eaters?"<br>Arthur looked at the two with a sense of relief before replying  
>"Thank god you two are okay, we were just about to go next door and check on you. And yes, Death eaters, they're the official supporters of He Who Must Not Be Named, seems they're having a last hurrah tonight, bringing back the glory days."<br>He made sure they both were wearing shoes before talking to the pair of them and Ron.  
>"You three get into the forest as well. Ron, Harry, look after Hermione. There's no telling what they would do if they got hold of her. Stay safe, Bill Percy and I are going to go help the Ministry workers and shut this lot down we'll catch up with you in the forest."<br>He looked them all over once more before speaking again  
>"Alright, ready? Then let's go."<p>

-:-

The next twenty minutes were some of the most hectic of Harry's life. With Ron and Harry flanking Hermione they pushed through the gawking crowds and then dashed towards the forest surrounding the stadium. They broke through the treeline and were soon deep between the boughs of the ash and pine trees. The forest was dark and Harry and the other two were soon losing their footing. When Harry tripped and fell face first into the pine needles Hermione became exasperated and got out her wand. Lighting it with a quick lumos she helped Harry to his feet.

Ron lit his own wand and Harry reached for his, only to find it missing. With a frustrated growl he looked in his other pockets to realize that he didn't have it on him.  
>"I don't believe it; I've lost my fucking wand!" Hermione immediately admonished him<br>"Harry language! But… really? How could you lose it?"  
>Harry growled angrily<br>"I don't know Hermione but it sure as hell isn't with me." Hermione lifted her eyebrow at him  
>"Don't you snap at me Potter I'm not responsible for your wand."<br>Harry sighed in frustration and felt immediately guilty for his words.  
>"Sorry love. It's just kind of annoying you know? Especially so since there are armed supporters of Voldemort running around."<p>

He was relieved when she stepped towards him and wrapped him in a brief hug.  
>"It's okay, I'm sure it'll turn up. Ron and I will do our best to compensate for you not being armed if something does happen. Just know that I love you Harry, always."<br>They broke apart when Ron started to get twitchy  
>"C'mon you two, this isn't the time or place."<br>Harry nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. He was frozen in place however at the sight of a tall figure standing on the edge of their little clearing. In his hand was a drawn wand pointed straight at the trio.

No one moved, Hermione and Ron had their wands raised nervously but they didn't really know any combat spells. Not for dealing with other people. The only thing they could use was the expelliarmus learned two years ago in the ill-fated duelling club. Harry felt helpless, without a wand he was worse than useless to his two friends. A strangely accented aristocratic voice rang from the figure.  
>"Mr Potter, so good to finally meet you."<p>

-:-

Hermione's every nerve was tingling with anticipation. Her whole body was primed to dodge, roll or throw herself to the side if she had to. She didn't know really what they could do against this man if he wanted to hurt them, and really she thought that he probably did. An aura of malice hung in the air about him like a shroud of death. Her breath hitched in her throat when he greeted Harry, this wasn't happening, not now, not when she had just truly had him for her own. Was this some kind of sick joke?

Harry's voice came from behind her, cool and calm. She knew that voice; it was his stalling voice, the tone he used when everything in his body was figuring out a way from the situation to safety.  
>"You have me at a disadvantage I'm afraid. You seem to know my name but I have no idea of yours."<br>A laugh, effortless and enthusiastic rang from the figure; Hermione was certain it was a man from his tone. That aristocratic voice was back  
>"Just call me Valmortis, it's as good a descriptor as any for me."<p>

Hermione felt a touch of dread as the name rang through the air. It had the sound of Latin about it; she didn't know what the 'Val' part was but mortis was easy, death. The man stepped forwards into the wand light and her eyes strained as she tried to see his face. But it was to no avail. A bone white mask covered it and the man's hood was drawn up. He was wearing loose robes that billowed out around him as he walked. They looked like a dementor's cowl and she shuddered at the memory of those beings.

She could hear Harry's breath hitch in his throat as she saw the man, and the wand in his hand was pointed straight at them. Harry's words came from behind her and she took strength from the sound of his voice. As long as he stayed calm she thought she could probably manage. She had to, for him.  
>"Well that's something at least." His sarcasm was plain in the night air and Hermione winced, was it really a good idea to antagonize this man? A slight laugh came from the figure.<br>"You know who the Dark Lord is don't you boy? You've met him before, several times apparently."

Harry's hard tone was quick in reply  
>"You mean old Tom the bastard? We've met."<br>The figure was silent, as if taking stock of the young teen's defiant tone and what it meant. Evidently it meant little as the man, Valmortis, continued as if Harry hadn't said anything at all.  
>"He wants you to suffer before he kills you Potter. He wants you to see everyone around you dead and dying as he takes your life." The tone of the man was becoming more and more gleeful, as if he took some kind of sadistic pleasure from the act of talking about murder. Perhaps he did, Hermione thought with a grimace.<br>"He wants me to start with the mudblood."

-:-

Several things happened all at once, Hermione sent her strongest disarming hex at the man but he simply batted it away with a flick of his wrist, catching the hex on a shimmering shield that formed in front of his off hand. His wand however was already moving and a beam of sickly yellow light lanced out, and struck Ron directly in the chest. Hermione's shock was complete as the redhead was knocked into her from mid-air, his dive in front of her saving her from the curse, but catching it himself. Ron's wand, abandoned on the ground, was quickly snatched up by Harry who used it to fire a string of hexes at the man who batted them aside with barely a touch of concern.

"The Blood traitor will do then, goodbye potter, it was nice to finally meet you. Don't worry; we'll be seeing each other again shortly, MORSEMORDRE!" The giant green skull exploded over the clearing and even as Harry shot another hex at the man he dashed backwards into the woods. Harry started forwards but was called back by Hermione's anguished yell  
>"Ron! No, stay with us, please!"<p>

Harry took one last look at the forest and cursed before spinning on his feet and dropping down to Ron's prone form. His chest was a horrific sight, it was like dozens of tiny insects had all erupted from the surface of his skin, shards of bone were mixed with shredded skin and blood was pumping freely across his bare chest, a hole scorched in his robes. Harry leaned over him only for Ron's hacking coughs to spray blood on Harry's face. With an angry jerk of his wrist he cleared his face and shook Ron's head, yelling in his own distress.  
>"Listen to me Ron we'll get help I promise, just stay with us!"<p>

Providence it seemed was smiling upon them as a dozen witches and wizards appeared in the clearing with an almighty whiplash crack. Twelve voices roared in unison, 'Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!' the trio of stunners from each witch or wizard fired into the forest harmlessly, each on a slightly different angle from the last and covering a broad spread. A yell broke through the mix  
>"Stop! That's my son!"<p>

-:-

Hermione was pushed aside none too gently as Arthur knelt at his son's side cradling his head in his arms and waving his wand over the young teen's chest, begging him to keep his eyes open and focused. The other eleven ministry casters spread out and five each surrounded Harry and Hermione, separating them. Wands were aimed and a loud voice broke through the mix as Barty Crouch advanced on Harry and Hermione  
>"Which one of you did it? Which one of you cast the dark mark?" Another voice piped up from the side, "Come on Barty, they're just kids, that's Harry Potter for Merlin's sake."<p>

Crouch turned on the man arguing with him but Hermione couldn't care, she was frantically trying to see if Ron was alive, if he was still breathing. This couldn't be happening, not Ron. Not the joker who always made them laugh. He couldn't be lying there with his chest ripped open and blood pouring over the ground. She felt the ground rush up to her as Hermione collapsed to her knees crying openly, sobbing Ron's name over and over again. She might love Harry, but Ron was still her friend, one of her best friends. And there he was, bleeding out in the dirt as Arthur's spells did nothing to stem the tide. A croaky voice came through, surprisingly loud.  
>"Hermione… Harry, please."<p>

Nothing could stop her then; she shoved the ministry workers aside and pushed through to kneel beside Ron, Harry joining them not even a second later. Ron looked into Hermione's eyes for a moment and that was all she could take, she broke down crying and batted ineffectually at the ground, her nails digging into the dirt in her distress. Through her tears she saw Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, he coughed once, and then his arm went shockingly limp, like a ragdoll. The focus left his eyes that were so often full of laughter and she knew then that he was gone. Killed in a senseless act of violence, she felt someone at her side, holding her. Her arms wrapped around the person but they were too big, too tall to be Harry. Where was he?

She got her answer a moment later as his anguished yell wracked through the forest. It was shapeless and there were no words in his grief. Just agony of emotion that she yearned to take from him, to share in his pain so that he could share in hers and be there where she needed him. Abruptly she felt another presence at her side, a heavy thump of Harry's knees hitting the ground and then her arms were around her too, his tears soaking into her shirt. There would be no rest however as he was ripped away from her and thrown to the ground.

-:-

Harry was nearly insensate; hitting the ground like that had jarred his head and stunned him. Woozy he lifted his head only to be at wand point. An angry voice was in the air in front of him.  
>"Harry Potter you are under arrest, charged with the murder of one Ronald Bilius Weasley and for the casting of the Dark Mark. You have the right…"<br>Harry never got to hear the rest of the wizarding version of the Miranda rights as he yelled out angrily  
>"Are you fucking accusing me of killing my best mate?"<br>Crouch looked at him sternly,  
>"We checked the woods Mister Potter. Your wand was found there, and after performing priori incantatem we have proof that both the Dark Mark and the Evisceration curse were cast from your wand.<p>

Harry cursed, that explained where he wand had gone.  
>"He stole it from me, the man who cursed Ron; he must have taken it sometime. I swear on my magic I didn't kill him."<br>That stopped them cold, it also put them in an easy position, and if he did kill Ron his magic would have vanished that second. Oaths were powerful things. If he didn't, then he should still be able to cast spells. Warily Crouch handed him his wand and Harry cast a simple Lumos charm, reiterating the oath for surety's sake.

A familiar voice spoke up then and it made a valid point as its owner, Amos Diggory stepped forward.  
>"If Harry didn't kill Mr Weasley then the killer is still at large, besides I highly doubt either of these teens would have the knowledge to cast either of those curses. We need to keep moving sir and find them, this whole valley is filled with pax-hostile anti-apparition wards we go now and we'll find them.<br>Crouch grunted and threw a look at Arthur  
>"You're officially off duty Arthur, tend to your son and get your family back to the campsite. I'm sorry for your loss." With that the ministry workers were gone, but in their wake they left a hole in the middle of Harry's life that he had no idea how he was going to fill.<p>

-:-

AN3: So… that happened. I had planned this from the beginning of the story. And before anyone claims I'm just getting him out of the way of the HHr I'd like to politely remind you that my Ron was very supportive of their relationship. It's one of the reasons I wrote his character in that way. Ron's death is important to the story, and I didn't want it to be overshadowed by any claims of simple 'Ship security'. This is going to throw a massive arse spanner in Harry's life. And remember, this is a tragedy. This isn't the last character death, and apart from HHr, no one is truly safe.

AN4: I tried to take the advice from as many of the reviewers as I could while writing this chapter. I hope it's up to scratch from a quality standpoint, I really do. That aside I noticed that last chapter got significantly less reviews than the previous two. Any reason for that? Idk.

AN5: Review Responses.  
>Angel Girl: Gah that wasn't my intention, sorry. Glad you liked it though.<p>

Rihannon Lovely: You think so? Thanks. Glad to know someone agrees with me. And yeah… I can't help but write fluff, it just rolls off my fingers onto the keyboard.

AnotherBoardUser: Too many times do they get off Scott free, but not this day! I must say I felt a bit of vindictive pride when I wrote Harry telling them to throw the book at the Dursleys.

JHarry: Excellent I can ask for anything more than to know I didn't miss anything. That's the worst thing ;.; Glad you liked it, hope this meets your expectations.

Vukk: A good question, I had to mull this one over in my head for a while before I could come up with a satisfactory answer and I have to think that the neighbours were told Harry became ill with something, something that wouldn't need doctor visits but would prevent him going outside. Nothing comes to mind right now but I'm sure such a condition exists. If that doesn't work perhaps they were told he was home schooled? Either works I think but if you have other ideas feel free to share.

As always thanks for reading and anything else you feel like tacking on. I love to hear from you guys especially the insightful reviews.

LGreymark


	6. Mourning, Memorium and Memories

AN: Disclaimer as usual, well we hit our goal on the head last chapter, sorry for the wait on this one, I've been reading reviews deciding whether I want to re-write the confrontation scene, but I think I'll leave it so that people can see how far I've come as a writer later in the story as I take everyone's advice. Once the fic is finished I'll probably go back and do a re-write.

AN2: Let's shoot for 9000 words again shall we? This is more of a downswing after the events at the cup and will end just before everyone goes back to Hogwarts. A point about Ron dying that I didn't bring up last chapter. I'm aiming for this story to tackle real world issues, mourning, loss and sacrifice. But not in the heavy handed way that JKR threw things around. Yes Ron is dead, but is he really gone? No of course not he lives on in the memories of Harry and Hermione, not to mention his other friends, family, teachers, etc. Ron might be dead, and a non-persona for the rest of the story, but that doesn't mean that his death didn't serve a purpose. For Voldemort and Valmortis his death served as the first blow against the Boy Who Lived, for Harry and Hermione Ron's death is a galvanizing spike that will harden their hearts to the coming war and what they have to do. For the Weasleys Ron's death serves as a reminder that even now, with Voldemort supposedly dead, no one is safe, and finally for the wizarding world at large. Ron's death and others who died at the Quidditch world cup (Whoops spoilers) will remind everyone that despite whom you are pureblood, muggleborn, halfblood, Muggle. You are in danger if you're not a death eater or aligned with the same. Let's get on with it.

AN3: Fair warning, there's some smut in this chapter. It's fairly explicit, but not particularly… serious? I don't know the right word to use there. I've made a warning further down for anyone not wanting to read it. There's nothing vital to the plot there and you can read the story without it and it won't make a difference.

-:-

Chapter five: Mourning Memoriam, and Memories.

No one slept that night. It felt like a disservice to the youngest Weasley son that they should get rest when his chance at being awake had been cruelly stripped away. Arthur, the twins, Percy and Bill were all gathered around a table, Ron's magically preserved body on a shroud on one of the cots in the tent. No one could look at him, no one could even speak. Bill was holding watching his father. The man was only just holding himself together; the shock of the evening and the absence of the other two members of their party were heavy in the air. Harry and Hermione had retreated to the other tent to be alone. No one asked them what had happened; Bill didn't think anyone ever would. Not soon at any rate, it was still too raw.

Ron wasn't the only one who had been in combat in that family. Percy was nursing a curse burn on his upper arm that refused to be soothed. Fred and George both had skin off their knuckles where they had beaten a drunken death eater when he had tried to rape a young girl who had come to the cup with her family. The girl's parents and two brothers were dead, killed by the death eater. No one asked what had happened to the man, Fred and George gave no explanations, but a haunted look was in their eyes. The girl had been taken by ministry workers to an orphanage and was given dreamless sleep potion to rid her mind of the immediate pain.

The image of safety, of peace, had been brutally shattered that night, dark marks were everywhere. Hanging ominously in the sky, the ministry had no way of removing them and their ghastly image was painted on the psyches of all those who had seen them. A veritable host of overlapping shades in the night sky. All cast over the bodies of the dead, or brutally harmed those the death eaters expected to die. Bill himself had nearly lost his arm when a curse had whizzed past his side, instead it had struck a man Bill had never seen in the chest. The ministry worker died instantly as his chest exploded and Bill didn't even know the name of the man who had caught a curse meant for him. About twenty minutes after they arrived back at the tent Bill had cast a silencing ward around it. The screams of the bereaved and dying still filled the night, and Hermione's mournful wails still echoed from the other tent. No one could stomach those screams of grief from the young woman who had held her friend as he died.

A part of Bill told him they should all be together right now, but he understood why the two teens were giving them space. This was a Weasley matter, and as much as Bill's mother wished they were, Bill knew that in their hearts the two did not consider themselves family. He thought back to the battle they had been engaged in. Pax Hostile Anti-apparition wards his ass. Voldemort's servants had darted around them with impunity, disappearing, only to appear behind people, and cutting them down with spell fire. As a curse breaker Bill's reactions were sublime and he had remained unscathed, but that was still only a near thing. And apart from the death eater Fred and George had gotten to, there were no casualties on the side of the servants of the darkness. It was a slaughter, butchery. A dozen aurors were dead, having been authorized only in non-lethal curses and hexes, they were totally outgunned.

Bill's heart was hardening to it all, he hated the fact that the wizarding world was so complacent. Things were happening on their doorstep, had been for years. They just carried on with their lives. Voldemort or no Voldemort, the Death Eaters were still active, and war was coming. Would they be ready for it?

-:-

In the other tent Harry Potter was feeling more than a little numb, his body refused to do even simple things, like breath and blink, without him supervising the actions. He couldn't think clearly, and everything seemed like a blur. Ron was dead. It was a simple, crushing fact that battered him senseless with its implications. The ministry had not caught Valmortis; apparently he had been in total contempt of whatever measures the ministry had to contain the event. It was a debacle, and his best mate was lying dead in the other tent, his chest ripped open by dark magic, his eyes glassy in the peaceful repose of death.

He had no way of examining his own emotions; they were skittish and refused to be viewed by his conscious brain. But Hermione's were clearly still raw, her pitiful wails of grief still rang in his ears as they lay on her bed in the tent, her body shaking with wracking sobs as she cried into his shoulder, her hands balled into fists against his chest clinging to him. He had no idea how she was still conscious, previous experience with Hermione suggested that this was well past her usual time of sleep. He could only assume the grief of the night was banishing the rest from her mind and body forcing it to remain awake.

There was nothing he could do for her. Simply lie in her arms and hold her to him, letting her exhaust her shock and grief. It bothered him that he was so powerless to help her, but in the end that was all he had been tonight, powerless. Powerless without his wand in the clearing to protect himself, powerless to help his friends, powerless to get Hermione out of the way of the curse, powerless to do anything to keep his best mate alive as he took a curse meant for his girlfriend, powerless to comfort the love of his life as she lay weeping in his arms. It was too much for one man, let alone a teenage boy to handle, but somehow Harry did. He ruthlessly closed his own mind to his grief, forced it down into a small dark corner of his mind where he could keep it contained.

Then he kissed Hermione. Pressing his lips gently against hers, trying to distract her from her grief. She was resistant at first, her mouth pressed into a hard line and her hands shaking against his chest. Slowly however she relaxed into him and kissed him back. It was not a sweet joining, nor was it gentle. She took what she needed from him, kissing him roughly and using him as a distraction from her grief. He had no idea how long they were locked in each other's embrace, struggling to keep them from truly losing control in their fight to stay sane in the darkness. Occasionally coming up for air before plunging back together, warding away the night-time chill by holding each other closer than they ever had before.

Their legs twined together and Harry's hands moved against his girlfriend's back, rubbing it firmly as if trying to remind him of the contours of her skin. Eventually the broke apart and Hermione's head nestled into her shoulder, her tears had ceased and she was panting for breath. Harry knew what was coming, he welcomed it; the chance to hear her voice again and know that she was still his.  
>"I love you Harry, thank you."<p>

The young man pressed his lips against hers again chastely in a quick peck to show his acknowledgement of her, he didn't trust himself to speak yet. Hermione it seemed had everything under control on that front and a veritable torrent of words came from her.  
>"He's dead Harry; he'll never butcher us in chess again. Or make us laugh at one of his stupid dry jokes. You and he were the first real friends I ever had outside my family, the first people to accept me as who I am, the only two people who had ever met me and actually told me that they liked me. And… and now one of you is gone, and I don't know what to do. It was always us three Harry. Even when you and Ron were angry with me last year it was always us. I always knew you two would come around. I always knew it would be the three of us against the world. I loved him Harry. Not like I love you, be sure of that. But I did love him, the unconditional and somewhat angst filled love of two friends from polar opposite backgrounds, but love nonetheless. And now he's gone. And I'll never see him smile or hear him laugh. Never have to witness his utter incompetence in potions or his inability to keep his eyes open in history of magic. Never again will the three of us sit next to the fire late at night in the common room, and chat about the day, or whatever hell is following you at the time."<p>

She took a few shaky breaths before burying her face into his chest, breathing in deeply and then letting it go. "He took that curse for me Harry. I would have died; it would be you and Ron sitting in the other tent, mourning over my body. He saved me, out of the bravery in his heart; he leapt in front of that because he couldn't bear to see me die. I don't even know what to do with that information. I don't know how to deal with the concept that even indirectly I'm the cause of his death. That my heritage, my… bloodline, is the cause for that wonderful young ma to be dead."

Harry had heard enough, he knew self-hatred when he saw it, the need to pin a tragedy on oneself because it gave closure, it gave the mourner someone to hate, some outlet for their feelings. He was a pro at self-hatred, she was starting to repeat herself, falling into a mantra and it had to stop.  
>"Hermione, shut up."<p>

Her hurt eyes glanced at his before her lips curled into an angry frown, her mouth opened to say something but Harry put a finger on it gently, asking for her patience.  
>"This isn't your fault, your parent's status as Muggles is not at fault. Ron isn't even at fault; no, the blame for this lies squarely on Voldemort." She made a small squeak of protest at the name but Harry just rolled his eyes and continued regardless.<p>

"He sent that man to kill you tonight; I'd be willing to bet that the whole attack, the Death Eaters killing people and terrorizing the camp. It was all to get us on our own. This… Valmortis character probably set the whole thing up on Voldemort's orders. He planned to get us on our own, he must have known, somehow, that we were staying with the Weasleys and that Arthur would have to go and help the Ministry if there was an attack that we would be sent into the forest when things heated up, for our own safety. He stole my wand to make sure I wasn't a threat. Maybe even went so far as to try and frame me with it."

Harry took a deep breath, what he was about to say would be hard, but they were both thinking it.  
>"He planned to kill you tonight Hermione, this whole thing was staged so that he could get us on our own and so that he could slaughter you. It's no secret that you're my best friend, but what would have happened to me if you died? I wouldn't have been able to go on. You're everything Hermione. Absolutely everything to me, if I lost you, I might as well not carry on because what would there be for me if I did?"<br>It was Hermione's turn to interrupt him  
>"You would carry on Harry. You'd do it for everyone else who needed you. You'd do your best to cleanse the world of his taint. You'd avenge me."<p>

Harry shook with her words; she had cut through his shock to the very core of who he was. She was dead right; he would fight for her, for everyone else who needed him. But it would be a hollow victory, if he could even win without her.  
>"You know I would do just that. But without you I don't think I would have the strength or intelligence to beat him. I need you Hermione, not just as the love of my life, but as the one person who can help me beat him." His eyes misted slightly and tears began to run unbidden down his cheeks. He couldn't see Hermione's expression; his glasses were on the small table, within arm's reach of the cot. But he knew she would have a tender look on her face at his emotion. He rarely showed such things, even to her, and any breach through the safety walls he had erected against his pain at the hands of the Dursley's, was welcome to her. He felt her hand cup his cheek and he nuzzled against it, glad for the tender contact. His voice was husky when he spoke next, slightly choked against the sobs that threatened to burst forth.<p>

"I love you Hermione, you are the one person on this earth I cannot do without. You're the most important person in my life, and that will never change." He had to stop for a second and swallow the lump in his throat  
>"Ron knew that. He knew that without you I wouldn't be able to beat him. I wouldn't be able to set this right, and don't mistake me. Voldemort is going to return, and something tells me I'll have to be there standing in his way when he finally does, and the only way I'm still going to be alive and kicking when he returns is if you're at my side. Ron knew that, and he knew that he couldn't let anything happen to you. So he gave his life, not just for you, or for me. But for the whole of the Wizarding world."<p>

He more felt rather than saw Hermione's smile, it was one of those full body smiles where she relaxed against him and her arms tightened near imperceptibly around his back where they had made their way. Her soft words in the darkness were a comfort to him.  
>"I love you too Harry, never ever forget that. And I'll be yours forever. I don't think even death will tear us apart now." She took a shaky breath before speaking next<br>"I know we're young, and that this could all be a teenage fever dream, but I don't think so. I think that one day you're going to ask me to marry you. And even now, I know I'll say yes. We'll get married, have a wonderful family, and grow old with our grandbabies around us and then pass on to the next great adventure where we will have eternity together. That's all I need Harry, I don't need you to be the saviour of the world, I don't need the Boy Who Lived, or the youngest seeker in a century. I don't need the celebrity; I need the young man who captured my heart. I need you Harry. And I know you'll always need me too. "

Harry's heart clenched almost painfully at those words, she had so much faith in them, and it was so gratifying to know that even through her grief her love for him shined on. He lost it then letting her hold him as his own grief hit the surface, painful and raw, angry and being hidden behind the façade of calm that he had put up for Hermione's sake. He wept, openly and without shame for his fallen friend. The part of him that Ron had occupied, that part of Harry's soul that was reserved for Ron as a friend, felt raw, like a gaping wound. His friend had been torn from him, so callously, so cruelly. But he knew however hard it was to admit, that if he had lost Hermione he would be so much worse. He managed to choke out a few words.  
>"I nearly… I nearly lost you."<p>

Hermione's reply was the balm he so desperately needed  
>"You'll never lose me love, even if one of us dies. It will only be a matter of time till we see each other again. You have me forever sweetheart: Eternity and a day."<p>

-:-

A special transportation portkey was brought to the tent by Mr Diggory the next morning. He and Arthur shared a few brief words before the older man hugged the redhead briefly and tapped the portkey a few times with his wand, apparently modifying it further; he then left to go take the modified portkeys to other bereaved families. It was well known that you couldn't apparate with a dead body. Similar in the way you couldn't apparate with a Muggle, as apparition relied on the innate magic of the body to actually function. Transport portkeys were the answer, designed to transport luggage and other inert items long distances they could be used to transport a corpse with no trouble at all.

Arthur tied the innocuous string around his youngest son's wrist, his face a mask of grief the whole while and everyone else took a hold of the length. Trying hard not to look at the body of her best friend Hermione stood on the other side of Harry and clenched his hand with her free one. She knew it was probably hurting him, but he didn't complain and she was silently thankful that he understood. Hermione and Harry were nervous about returning home, Molly had been sent an owl from Arthur explaining the situation the previous night. And neither Hermione nor Harry was quite sure what state the bereaved woman would be in.

Hermione felt the now familiar pulling sensation on her magic before they were whisked away. When they arrived back at the burrow Hermione immediately let go of the string and pulled Harry to the side to let the Weasleys move towards the house. Almost instantly Molly had burst out of the back door running to the group. Hermione saw Arthur intercept her and hold her for a moment before bringing her to Ron's corpse. His body was magically preserved and he had new robes on him hiding the hideous injury on his chest. He looked peaceful; the sight though made Hermione's eyes water and a lump appear in her throat. It was still too raw. She buried her head back in Harry's chest, accepting his warm embrace and the soothing words spoken into her ear.

The Weasleys moved inside save for Arthur. He turned to the two teens and said sadly.  
>"I hate to ask this of you, as I know you two were his best friends. But is there any chance you wouldn't mind me taking you back to your mother's? It's going to be hard enough on Molly and the rest of us for a few weeks, and I have a nasty suspicion that in her grief she's going to blame this on you two. I don't want to put you through that. I guarantee you two will be invited to the Memorial service, whenever we end up holding it."<p>

Hermione was slightly taken aback at first, but after looking at Harry and seeing him nod she agreed, it made a certain amount of sense. After all, Hermione had blamed herself initially as well. She wouldn't be surprised if Molly, and maybe even Ginny, did as well. They headed indoors briefly, avoiding molly, and said their goodbyes to the others, explaining their leaving. They all understood, their mother was a passionate woman who was known for speaking her mind before thinking things through. They got their luggage together and Arthur brought out the same transport portkey, and looped it through their luggage. Harry let Hedwig out of her cage so that she could fly back the Grangers herself and Crookshanks was sufficiently magical from his kneazle heritage to be brought along with the portkey. With an apologetic expression handed the string to them. After tapping it with his wand they were whisked home.

-:-

Dan was rather curious when he heard a loud thump outside, it was a wonder he was even home at this time of day to hear it but he and Emma hadn't had any appointments for the day and simply wanted to spend some time in the house with each other. The loud noise had startled them out of their late morning breakfast and the two quickly moved to the window, shocked when they saw their daughter and future son walking tiredly towards the house. Dan dashed to the front door and opened it for them, his worry increased further when Hermione flew into his arms, dry sobs wracking her body. Emma was even more shocked when Harry set his trunk down and moved towards her for a comforting hug of his own. The young man was warming to them but he still had issues with his personal space and usually only let Hermione touch him. If he was seeking out a hug something horrible must have happened. Gently Dan rubbed his daughter's back and coaxed her to tell him what was wrong.

The story they gave was just as horrific as they had feared: An attack? On the most heavily guarded event of the calendar year? And the magical police had been slaughtered? Ron was dead? So many harsh blows came thick and fast that the two elder Grangers didn't know where to look. Harry gently explained why they had returned and how grief stricken the Weasley's had been. Dan understood the reasoning, he didn't much like it but he understood. Regardless he preferred to have his daughter, no, both his children, here with him and Emma after something like that had happened.

He shared a look with his wife; did they even want the two teens back at Hogwarts if something like this was happening? It would be something to talk about later; they still had several days before the kids needed to return to school. In the meantime he and Emma would do their best to help Hermione and Harry get over their pain and grief.  
>"We understand, we're happy to have you home of course and we'll do our best to help you through this." He looked at harry then, knowing this would be particularly poignant for the young man.<br>"We love you two, and we're here for you if and when you need us, no questions asked, at any time of the day. We're here for you."

-:-

The week moved slowly, and it was scary to both teens how easily they slipped back into the routine they had developed, except now the pair of them slept in Hermione's bed each night and they often retired earlier in the evenings, holding each other and collectively reminiscing over Ron. Reliving memories and keeping his memory alive between them. They received a letter the day after they returned telling them that the funeral for Ron would be that Friday, the day before they would return to Hogwarts. The night before the funeral Harry and Hermione were sitting up in her bed, Harry resting his back against the headboard and Hermione snuggled into his chest. She was absently drawing patterns on his arms and his eyes were closed, a lazy expression on his face as he enjoyed her touch. Her words, spoken softly into the darkness of their now shared room, startled him slightly.

"Is it right that I'm still happy?" Harry looked at her then, in the darkness all he could see was the profile of her face but it was enough for him to know that she wasn't crying or overly distressed, rather she was thoughtful. Taking her question seriously he mulled it over in his mind. Was it okay for them to be happy? He knew he was; having her with him during these increasingly cold nights was a silent joy for the young man. He loved having her in his arms as they fell asleep together and waking up to her smile in the morning was worth more than he could rightly say. But was it all right? Should they be letting themselves be happy when their friend was so recently murdered? Shouldn't they still be mourning him?

The last question was easiest to answer, they both still were. Harry still couldn't even look at his broom without thinking of his friend's love of Quidditch, and he knew Hermione still had trouble even making jokes. Laughter had been suspiciously absent from their days. Yes they were still mourning him, and rightly so. He had been their best friend for three years. One didn't simply toss that level of loyalty and affection to the side. The other questions, he realized, were actually just as easy to answer. Yes, they should be happy. Not in spite of Ron, but rather because of him. He was a happy young man; he had lived his life according to what gave him the most joy, or what his friends needed the most. And right now Harry and Hermione needed to be happy. They needed to put the overt grief of their friend's passing behind them so that they could move on. They needed to live.

It was not a negligible thought then, that they should be happy in honour of his memory. He wouldn't have wanted his friends to be sad, he would have wanted them to make a dry remark about how he was probably beating Merlin in chess and have a good laugh. That thought alone made him chuckle and Hermione's inquisitive expression filled his face as she turned to look at him.  
>"What're you laughing about love?"<p>

Harry pushed her fringe back from her face and kissed her softly,  
>"Just the thought that Ron's probably kicking everyone's asses at chess in the afterlife."<br>Hermione grinned then and Harry fancied he could see her imagining the thought, then she broke into laughter, her easy and hearty laugh rang around the small room, accompanied by the unladylike snorts that Harry adored. They were very uniquely Hermione. He couldn't hold himself serious in the face of such mirth and he too soon broke down into chuckles, then full blown laughter.

The two didn't stop laughing for quite a while and only when Emma poked her nose in the door to find out what was going on did they finally settle down and let her in on the joke. Their mum gave a small smile and simply shut the door wishing them goodnight. They felt good to finally have laughed again, it was a purging experience and they both felt better for it, cleaner, like some taint had been removed. Harry bent down and kissed Hermione's nose, her answering smile cut through his malaise and without another thought the two of them curled down together in the bed. Their lips joined together and they melded their bodies to each other.

-:- For those of you bothered by it the mild smut starts here -:-

Hermione was well aware of Harry's erection pressing into her bum the next morning, it was an incredibly common occurrence and it always made her heart do a little flutter to feel his not inconsiderable length pressed between her lower cheeks. The fact that she was the one who did this to him was not lost on her. Almost every morning they had woken up together she had felt this pressing into her, the only morning she did not was the night of Ron's death, and even then they had barely slept.

Usually she just lay there and enjoyed the feeling of his arousal and what it meant to her, that it was her bum, her body, his attraction to her that even subconsciously made him this hard. She wasn't innocent, living in a dorm with Lavender and Parvarti for three years meant that she was well aware of the things that went on between boys and girls. She disapproved of the fact that the girls had had experiences like this at the ages of twelve and thirteen but in hindsight she didn't really have a leg to stand on. The magical world was far more accepting of sexual relations between teens. She wasn't totally sure why but there you go. It might have something to do with the way magic brought people together in a much more intimate way than in the Muggle world.

That aside Hermione had felt that she had controlled herself well. She wasn't immune to Harry's affection and charms, let alone the hard length of his arousal pressed into her. Many mornings she had gone to the shower and had wash her thighs of the liquid that had run down them from her sex. It wasn't easy waking up first every morning, Hermione often had to wait several minutes for Harry to awaken and even then he was often too shy about his erection to do more than just lie there and not acknowledge it. This morning though, Hermione wanted to give him something to think about besides the impending funeral.

It took her a moment to gather her courage, then, with a careful roll of her hips and shoulders, she was facing him. He was so peaceful when he slept his brow unconcerned by the usual worries of the day and his arms were often either limp around her or holding to her firmly. Either way she felt loved and close to him. But it wasn't the relative firmness of his hold on her that she was interested in this morning, rather it was the firmness f her hold on him, that would wake him up in such a pleasant manner. She was incredibly nervous as she'd never done anything like this before and was unaware of how exactly to begin. She knew the theory of course (What theory didn't Hermione know?) and that was as good as any a thing to begin with. So, after gathering her courage, she pressed her palm against Harry's stomach, her fingers pointing down.

He often slept without a shirt on, claiming that the twisting he often did while he slept constricted his chest as the fabric of a night shirt tried to keep up with his movements. So it was that Hermione loved placing her hand against his bare skin and feeling the flutter of his muscles. She was sure it was a subconscious reaction and, while watching his eyes to make sure he was still asleep. She moved her hand down over his covered erection.

Her eyes widened as she felt it in her palm and fingers, looking at it was one thing but having it in her hand, even covered, was quite another. It was thick and heavy, and it throbbed. That in itself wasn't a shock; it quite obviously had blood flow. But the feeling his heartbeat through his penis was an entirely different consideration and she had to press her thighs together hard to relieve the sudden urge there. She stayed motionless for a moment, simply feeling the pulse of his heartbeat through his boxers. Eventually though, she managed to build up her courage again and began softly stroking it through the fabric.

Harry's eyes immediately shot open and Hermione was suddenly stricken with doubt, would he appreciate this? Would he shy away? She had nothing to fear, Harry's confused expression suddenly dissolved into pleasure as her hand started to pump him firmly over his boxers. He moaned softly and she shot a look at the door before reaching across him and, grabbing her wand, quickly muttered a silencing spell at Harry's mouth. He looked askance at her until she gripped him again and firmly pumped his length, making him moan silently, then a look of understanding washed over his face. Gently, he reached forwards and kissed her as her hand continued to work.

If the look on his face was any indicator Harry was deeply enjoying this, and Hermione couldn't say she wasn't taking a fair amount of pleasure from it either. The fact that she could do this for him, had this power over him in such an intimate way made her deeply aroused and the sheer act of giving Harry the pleasure she knew he deserved was an empowering experience for the young witch. Grinning into his lips mischievously she let go of him for a moment, before tugging down his boxers and freeing his arousal. His eyes widened as she boldly wrapped her fingers around him and continued to pump, her hand slick with the seepage from the tip of his penis.

She kept up with this for a while, Harry's silent moans and mouthed encouragement was more than enough motivation for her to pleasure him. But there was one more thing she wanted to try that morning. Gently she urged Harry onto his back and then had to stop for a moment, wondering how she was going to do this. Harry needed to be able to speak for this but she didn't know how to keep him quiet. In the end she decided just to take a chance and removed the silencing spell. Immediately Harry's lips were on hers, kissing her and murmuring his thanks.

When his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her close to him she was a little confused.  
>"Didn't you like that?" Harry looked a little bemused himself<br>"You know I did, you had to silence me remember?"  
>Hermione eyed him suspiciously<br>"Then why are you stopping me?"  
>Harry's eyes bugged out at that and Hermione almost giggled at the hope in his voice<br>"You mean there's more?"

Hermione bit her lip cutely and moved her way down his body kissing as she went between words.  
>"There's just one more thing I want to try"<br>Harry looked curious and confused as she moved between his legs, her hand wrapping around him again.  
>"I'm going to do my best to make this good for you love, but you need me to tell me when you're going to come okay?" She was concerned when Harry looked confused<br>"When I'm going to what?"

She nearly face palmed, of course he wouldn't know what she was talking about. He wouldn't eavesdrop on his dorm mate's conversations; he wouldn't know the euphemisms people used. She blushed before saying again  
>"I need to tell me when you're going to orgasm."<br>Harry blushed and refused to meet her eyes, he looked away and to her horror she felt him go a bit softer in her grip.  
>"I've never… y'know."<p>

Her eyes went wide; he didn't know what that was, at all? She shivered in anticipation; she could give him his first orgasm, right here, right now. She would have to just cope with hi not being able to warn her. That was fine, he deserved this. She realized she was going to have to get Harry back in the mood as he steadily got softer in her grip. With an excited look she worked her way back up his body and snagged his lips in a kiss.

It got gradually more heated and they progressed slowly. Hermione broke from him for a moment before palming him once more and slowly pumping.  
>"Let me show you then. Let me give you this. Just try and stay quiet okay? I know mum and dad give us a lot of lenience but I don't think they'd be happy with this."<br>She didn't see Harry's nod, she was already focused on his gorgeous length. It was slightly darker in tone to the rest of his skin and she could feel it becoming rock hard again quite rapidly as she pumped her still slick hand over his surface.

It took her a moment to build up her courage, but eventually she lowered her head down to him and gently wrapped her lips around his head. He tasted surprisingly sweet and it wasn't hard for her to imagine doing this for him often. It felt so intimate to have this part of him in her mouth, and so right at the same time. The fact that she could feel Harry's entire body tense in pleasure didn't hurt either. Slowly she worked her way down his shaft with her lips, taking more of him into her mouth. She could just barely fit half of him in before she felt like any further was gag territory, but that was fine, especially since she'd never even thought of doing this before, well at least no to anyone else.

She lovingly stroked his length with her right hand while she worked the top half of him with her mouth, sucking on his head and occasionally bobbing down his length a few times. She had no idea how well she was doing until she felt Harry tense underneath her and suddenly her mouth was full of a hot slightly salty liquid. She nearly choked at the suddenness of it all but she kept her composure and swallowed easily. It actually tasted quite good. Removing her mouth from his rapidly softening length she looked up at him with a loving expression and smiled happily at his worn out look. His grin was all she needed to know this was the right thing to do. She quickly climbed up his body and pressed her lips to his, kissing him soundly. She knew the taste of him was still on her tongue but she wanted him to get used to that not being a taboo thing. She wanted to be able to kiss him whenever she wanted.

They stayed locked together like that for some time before they finally broke apart and Harry held her close softly intoning his thanks to her. She smiled lovingly at him before replying  
>"I know that was new for you, and I can't tell you how happy I am to be able to give you that for the first time. I know we both said that we wanted to wait, but I think we can get away with doing things like that with each other, as long as it goes no further. I love you, but I'm not ready to have your babies yet."<p>

Harry's eyes brimmed slightly at that and she knew she'd struck a chord mentioning children, there was nothing Harry wanted more than to be a father one day. She kissed him softly before he could say anything.  
>"When we're married love, you can have me as much as you want."<br>Hermione realized she was in a unique position; Harry had no preconceived notions about relationships. He had none of the usual taboos; he had none of the usual expectations or assumptions. She knew he would do anything he could to make her happy and she had the opportunity to show him how she liked to be loved, without anything he had assumed getting in the way. He snuggled up to her and rested her head on his chest, his arms around her and her lips gently kissing his throat.  
>"Thank you sweetheart, I've never felt that good before… that was amazing. I love you."<br>Hermione smiled giddily into his neck, he knew just what to say to make her happy.  
>"I love you too Harry."<p>

-:- Smut ends -:-

Emma drove the teens out to the small cemetery where the funeral was being held. The teens explained why she couldn't get to close to the place, it was a wizarding cemetery and it had Muggle repelling charms all around it. The two teens got out of the car about half a kilometre (about a quarter of a mile for anyone who needs the conversion), from the place and walked the rest of the distance. Emma and Dan had both had a frank discussion with the teens about Hogwarts and whether they should be returning.

Hermione and Harry had both been adamant that they should. Harry and Hermione were both still a wizard and a witch; they needed to be taught how to control what they had else it could be dangerous. That aside everyone who knew Harry understood that he was a part of whatever was happening in the magical world and he being trained was vital to his survival. By that same token Hermione refused to be forced to sit on the side-lines and watch as Harry went to war. As they both knew he would when the time came, it was just who he was.

They were partners in every sense of the word. They discussed things before doing them, they didn't assume anything of the other and they didn't take each other for granted. They supported each other and they were both responsible for not only their own, but each other's wellbeing. Hermione sitting out the coming war was simply not an option and their parents had quickly acquiesced on the grounds that they are careful and weekly letters were send home, from both of them.

When the pair entered the cemetery holding hands a few pairs of eyes sought them out. Fred and George came over to them and greeted them warmly with hugs. Even at such a solemn occasion their spirits could hardly be dampened, they had come to the same conclusion as Harry and Hermione. Ron would have wanted everyone to be happy and to have a good laugh at his expense.  
>Molly come over to them an apologised, they hadn't actually had any problems from the Weasley matron but it was assumed and understood by all present that she had initially accused them of having gotten her youngest son killed.<p>

The funeral itself was fairly long. All the Weasley's said something up in front of the small gathering of family and friends. When they got the chance Harry and Hermione both stepped forwards to speak but for once Harry was the most articulate of the pair.  
>"Ron was, to me at least, the best friend a man could ask for in another man. He was funny, and made sure we all, the three of us, laughed regularly with his dry wit and hilarious shenanigans. He was more insightful than I think any of us really gave him credit for. He knew before Hermione and I did that we were meant for each other. He knew when one of us was hurting sooner and more easily than we knew ourselves. He was constantly able to hunt straight to the source of an issue and then politely backed away to let Hermione plan how to deal with it."<p>

Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat at what he was going to say next.  
>"All of us here, I think, loved Ron in some way or other. Whether he was simply family, and that was enough, or because he was a dear friend. He changed all of our lives for the better with his humour and deadly mind for chess." The gathering laughed at the mention of Ron's strongest hobby. Harry continued after a moment<br>"Chess itself, while not a truly exciting thing, was one of Ron's greatest passions. Not only would he routinely thrash me in our daily games. But he even beat a magical consciousness designed by Minerva McGonagall to play the game. He had a brilliant mind for strategy and will be forever remembered in Hogwarts as the chess master. But to me, he will always be my best mate: The boy who stood at my side though three headed dogs, murderous godfathers, giant killer snakes and Ron's own worst fear; man eating spiders." He turned and from his pocket took a chess piece; it was the white king from Ron's personal set that he had asked Arthur to bring with him today.

"I've knocked over this one piece in defeat a hundreds of times mate. I think it's only fitting that you take it with you so that everyone on the other side can knock it over and curse as you thrash them for all eternity." Ron's funeral was open casket and Harry reverentially slipped the piece into the breast pocket of the robes his friend was wearing. He placed a hand on Ron's shoulder and said one last thing before stepping back from the front to return to Hermione's side.  
>"Good luck mate, I'll see you again someday. Goodbye Ron."<p>

-:-References to the earlier smut here, no actual smut, just the reference of it.-:-

After the service the Weasley's insisted that Harry and Hermione go to the burrow for a small get together of Ron's immediate family in the wake of the funeral to celebrate his life. They graciously accepted after sending the Grangers a letter with Errol that they would be returning home afterwards with Arthur.

The get together was informal and the two both admitted that they had fun. Even with Ginny glowering at Hermione all after noon the twins and Bill both made it fun for them by keeping them laughing. Percy was suspiciously absent and Charlie had no idea that Ron was even dead; no one had been able to contact him. The family and Harry and Hermione laughed together well into the afternoon where they finally accepted that the pair should head home.

Arthur got them home via side along apparition, which the pair both agreed they could do without in the near future. The evening at the Granger household was subdued but comfortable. The four of them chatted as they were want to do and Harry and Hermione both agreed that they would miss the pair very much in the coming year. Later that evening Emma pulled Hermione aside and sat her down in a chair at the kitchen table while Dan and Harry were chatting away about Quidditch, she fixed Hermione with a firm gaze before speaking.

"I don't know what you were up to this morning but I heard Harry moan at least once. Do I need to be expecting grandchildren?"  
>Hermione was mortified, she had no idea her mother had known, and she hastily reassured her mother.<br>"No mum, absolutely not, we're waiting till we're married."  
>Emma raised an eyebrow, she looked happy at Hermione's words but then again…<br>"So what did I hear?"

Hermione blushed scarlet  
>"Nothing too… oh don't make me say it."<br>Emma chuckled and pointed at the lounge where the two men were sitting.  
>"He's a special young man Hermione, he'll look after you and I get the impression you're already looking after him." She gave a wink that only served to exacerbate Hermione's blush. "You two are good for each other and I know you're both far more mature than your years. Just be careful okay sweetheart? Think about things before you do them, talk to him, and discuss things. Be frank, open and honest. He will appreciate it and you'll both make better decisions because of it."<p>

Hermione nodded and slid her arms around her mother.  
>"Thanks mum; he does make me extremely happy, happier I think, than anyone else ever could. I promise I'll bring him home to you and daddy."<br>Emma smiled and hugged her daughter  
>"Thank you pumpkin, just think, soon you'll be dating your brother!"<br>Hermione groaned,  
>"Merlin mum am I ever going to live that down?"<br>Emma smiled mischievously,  
>"Only when you marry him, but then we'll have so much more ammunition anyway."<p>

Hermione laughed and the two of them talked for a while longer, chatting about nothing important, and yet simply the time alone together was enough for them to be happy. Hermione might love her father, but she would forever be her mummy's girl. When she and Harry were cuddled together in bed later that night Hermione kissed his neck and spoke softly  
>"Do you want to talk about what happened this morning love?"<br>She could feel Harry shift his arms around her so that he could look at her face. He was smiling but his eyes were concerned.  
>"I think we should. Don't get me wrong, it was lovely. But it was a bit of a surprise too and I'm worried you might have jumped too far."<p>

Hermione's breath hitched, was this it then? Was he going to make her regret their wonderful morning? Again, she had nothing to fear, and when Harry's hands gently touched her cheeks, urging her to look at him it was only love that she saw there.  
>"In the end I don't think it matters. We both took it in stride and it was lovely to be that intimate with you. Sometime soon you're going to have to teach me how to repay the favour. But tonight I'd like to just hold my beautiful girlfriend and be loved by her chastely."<p>

Hermione's heart swelled at his words, she felt the same way and his mention of returning the favour sent shivers through her belly. That was certainly something to look forward to. She looked up at him lovingly before replying  
>"I'd love that Harry. We can learn about this together and take it at our own pace. I couldn't ask anything more of you my sweetheart. Thank you."<br>Her heart melted at Harry's lopsided smile and when he moved to kiss her she met him halfway, revelling as always in the gentle but rough quality of his lips. And the loving intensity of his embraces and kisses. This truly was all she needed in life, and she was sure that at this moment Ron was looking down on them, proud that they were happy.

-:-

AN4: Holy balls that was emotional to write, even the smut was kinda… intense. I reckon I'm getting into their heads a bit better now; the characters are starting to develop. Like I mentioned at the start of the chapter in the first AN, I'm using Ron's death as a bit of a plot device, but also as a bit of a moral lesson. Far too often I've heard of people locking themselves away and hiding from the world when someone close to them dies. I like to think that if one of my friends was taken from me like that they would want me to continue living as happily as I could, not in spite of my loss of them, but rather in memory of it.

AN5: This chapter is dedicated to my Poppa Bob who died when I was little. Sadly I never truly got to know him but I've been told he was a wonderful man. And it is also dedicated to Ken Kendall, who I met very briefly before he too passed away. He was a truly fantastic person with a bright and mischievous personality. I don't think there was a man I have met who was kinder, more honest, or more loving to everyone around him. Rest in peace.

AN6: For those of you who read the Smut, I'd like a bit of feedback on it, it's the first I've written and even if the feedback is terrible I'd still like to hear it. If I'm going to improve I need to know where I'm going wrong and what to keep doing right. There's going to be more of that in the story, although probably not again for a few chapters. And as this is a mature fic I want to make sure that the interpersonal interactions, especially between Harry and Hermione, are par for the course and of a good quality.

AN7: Review responses:  
>Lightningblade: I probably should have mentioned this, in this universe all magical peoples are given instruction and information about magical oaths so that they cannot hear one somewhere, think it's cool and then accidentally end up without their magic because they made a mistake or swore on something particularly daft. Harry knew what he was doing when he made the oath.<p>

NathanHale: I agonized over that scene; it took me maybe two hours to write it. I genuinely thought in the beginning that writing it from Harry's standpoint would be something that should happen, and I tried to do so several times. But when it got to the point where the curse is flung at Hermione I had to battle with myself not to edit the story so that he saved Hermione. It's probably a cop out on my part but I didn't know how to both write it in Harry's perspective and also make sure that he lived. It just seemed like every time I wrote that scene through his eyes it always ended up with Harry tackling Hermione to the ground or taking the curse himself. From Hermione's perspective, or even Ron's this issue is removed. Again, maybe a cop out but in the end I think the scene does its job. Fear not, other action scenes will almost always be in Harry's perspective, unless there's something particularly nifty or impressive that he does that I want viewed from a third party.

Vukk: I remember one of the books (Or maybe several in canon) where it is mentioned by Vernon that Harry is mentally disturbed. (Obviously as a cover for his strange behaviour) I think that this is a nice shoe in for the "Why doesn't he go to school anymore" debate. It would be easy to simply tell the neighbours that Harry had mental health problems that required him kept indoors. And with the Dursley's aversion to seeming "Less than normal" that would explain why they didn't simply have him committed, because then it would be public record and impossible to hide. Whereas the small circle of neighbour gossip wouldn't really hurt their image much.

MrBojangles: I loved writing crouch in that scene; I rarely get to write a stickler for the rules who likes to jump to conclusions. The fact that he is so obsessed with his work and makes Valmortis look like an adoption advocate with his cold hearted attitude was simply more sweetener to the pot from a writer's perspective.

Beyondthesea: Never fear I shan't be swayed by a few people telling me I'm being daft. The story will go as I want it to not how others think it should. Besides, what's the fun of a tragedy where no one dies? As for Ginny… I shan't reveal the plot. Arthur is going to be a bigger influence on the story than he was in canon. And hopefully he can rein Molly in a bit huh?

ElizabethMS: Little bit of a bomb yeah, couldn't help it though. The story must go on.

Higashima: If you're reading this I'm sorry it's not for you, but thanks for the well wishes anyway and that you took the time to review.

Anotherboarduser: Oh don't worry, Harry and Hermione, while still kind of new to this whole "Combat" thing, aren't going to be pulling any punches. They might not know all about spells yet but there'll be something coming in the next couple of chapters, (probably the next one) which will make up for the deficit.

JHarry: Not as hard as it should have been! I've never really liked Ron as a character, and even this OOC Ron was getting on my nerves. And I'm the one who created him!

God of all: Roger that! Here's a chapter, hope it suits.

As always thanks for reading and anything else you might have done in reaction to the story. Keep those reviews coming! They truly keep me motivated. See you next time.

LGreymark


	7. The Tri Wizard Tournament

AN: Disclaimer as per usual. Well… I suppose I should first apologize for the tardiness of this chapter. I've been doing a certain amount of refreshing before I tackle the unofficial second act, which will go till just after the yule ball. You can expect a similar break then.

AN2: So I almost perfectly hit 9K last time, without really even trying, I'm sure I can keep this streak up. I want to cover quite a bit more with this chapter so let's shoot for 12K. Btw, I'll be putting spot references to various adult activities through this chapter, nothing actually happens and nothing is said explicitly but I can't be arsed disclaiming all of them, just be warned, they exist. Not really much else I think I need to say here, let's get on with it shall we?

AN3: That moment when I realize I want to talk about something else -.-, I've discovered that I'm using Hermione more and more as my narrative voice for this fic and I've got mixed feelings about it. Obviously that lends a sense of solidarity to the tale but at the same time it also means that I'm not exploring other character's points of view as much as I'd like. I'll have a think about it, share your thoughts as well, I'd like to hear what you guys have to say.

-:-

Chapter six: The Tri Wizard Tournament

They both woke the next morning in a contented sort of lull. They had gone to sleep relatively early the previous night and had, consequentially woken far too early, or at least Hermione had. She was as usual laying on her side with Harry behind her, his warm length pressing into her bum. Her cheeks reddened a little, remembering what had gone on that previous morning and grinned. It had been an empowering and very satisfying experience for her, to know that the saviour of the magical world became so undone in her presence. Shifting slightly in his arms so that she was facing him she gently pressed her lips to his chest, over his heart. The warm thumping sound in his chest was something she never tired of listening to; Hermione fancied that in Harry's mind his heart beat for her. It was a silly thought but it made her grin uncontrollably, every morning that they had woken up together was the same, and she would lay there for several minutes simply enjoying the fact that she had him here with her. He was not in the arms of Ginny bloody Weasley, or any of the other beauties at Hogwarts. He was hers, and he loved her much the same as she loved him. She couldn't ask for anything more.

With a small sigh she carefully extricated herself from his limbs and pressed a small kiss to his lips. He murmured in his sleep softly before reaching out to her trying to find his missing source of warmth. Smiling she slid a spare pillow into his arms, watching him latch onto it happily, and slipped out of the bed; as much as she wanted to stay there forever in his arms she knew she had to have her shower early. Harry took a touch longer with his and they both needed to have them before they left. It wouldn't hurt to pack either. A cursory glance between the curtains told her that it was still dark, she never kept a clock in her room for some reason so she didn't know the exact time but she guessed it was at least five, maybe six. Far too early to be wandering about, nevertheless she dragged herself into the shower with one last happy, and more than a little longing, look at her man so peacefully laid out on the sheets of her bed.

The warm spray of the shower was just what she needed to relax her tired muscles. She was always a little stiff when she slept, having Harry in her bed helped, she couldn't help but melt with his comforting embrace around her. But when she woke up she always needed the warm massage of the shower to loosen her joints and muscles. Her mind inevitably strayed back to the man in her bed and she giggled slightly, letting herself be a bit girly where no one else could hear her. They had led a slightly charmed life this last month. With the glaring exception of the events at the world cup Harry and her had been given the time to simply be two teens in love. They had kissed sweetly and gone walking down the main street, held each other long into the night, talking about everything and nothing. She had, on occasion, helped his hands roam and, with a blush, she admitted that she had done a fair bit more than simply roam.

It had been somewhat of a blissful experience for them, Ron's death of course had been a tragedy, and before she and Harry had slept last night they had both shed many tears for their fallen friend. A memorial held for him just between the two young lovers. Mornings were not the time to grieve; they were the time of new beginnings, fresh starts, understanding, love and happiness. Nothing could be truer for Hermione. She had too much to live for to be crippled by her friend's death. She was still grieving, but it was a reserved grief that only showed itself at times where she had Harry there, alone, to comfort her and remind her that he was probably soundly thrashing everyone in the next great adventure with his chosen hobby. That had always made her laugh; Harry was so good at doing that, taking her grief away with a joke or a well-timed question about whatever she was reading.

He really was perfect for her, they very rarely argued, there was little for them to argue about as they often agreed on things from the get go. Even when they disagreed they would both lay their points down calmly and discuss a solution. They were extremely compatible when it came to the more… physical side of their relationship. Obviously she had no idea if they were fully so, they had not yet gone all the way and neither of them planned to. But what they had done so far had been magical. She giggled slightly at the pun before rinsing her hair of the conditioner and turning off the spray. While towelling off she continued her little inventory of their lives together; they emotionally supported each other without really thinking about it. It was effortless and they pair of them seemed to know exactly what to say to comfort the other or draw them out of their shell. She supposed it had a great deal to do with the fact that they had led very close lives even before this summer. They would spend in excess of five hours a day together at Hogwarts, whether it is in lessons or eating in the great hall, talking as they walked around the lake or just generally enjoying company together next to the fire in the common room.

It all seemed to add up to them being closer than she thought couples normally were at this point. Certainly she had no frame of reference, her mother and father had met each other at a convention and after a whirlwind romance had settled down together, married, quite happily. When Hermione returned to their bedroom and she saw that Harry was awake her breath hitched in her throat. His body was tense with the usual coiled power that he had in him, his eyebrow was raised and he was wearing a somewhat mirthful expression. He didn't make it easy for her to wait for marriage that was for sure. His expression and posture made him seem like the tensed predator sure of the takedown. His amused voice sent shivers running through her;  
>"A pillow sweetheart? You thought I could be fooled with a pillow?"<p>

Hermione squeaked and turned for the door, intending to playfully try and escape but he was there immediately, his arms around her waist from behind and his slightly stubbly chin resting on her shoulder.  
>"You weren't thinking of running now were you?"<br>Hermione looked up at him with mock defiance on her face, but it quailed under the look he was giving her, she remembered then, why she was so attracted to him. It wasn't just the looks he gave her or his toned body, not even the deep emotional connection she had with the young man. No, it was the aura of power that he let off. This feeling that he was in total control of whatever the situation was, even when she knew he didn't have such control.

It was quite frankly, sexy as hell, and she made sure he knew that by leaning up and kissing him passionately. She felt Harry's hands move to her hips and she could tell that he was trying hard not to grind himself against her, not that she would have minded. Eventually they broke apart, both gasping slightly for air and Hermione felt her own sense of power when she saw Harry's eyes had a dazed quality to them. He was powerful, yes. But she held the keys to his undoing, and they were a responsibility that she swore to herself she would never abuse. He trusted her with his heart, she would never break it. They stood together in each other's embrace for a few more moments until Hermione felt him move abruptly away, turning to face him she saw his blush. Her expression must have been questioning because he managed to stammer out.

"You're only in a towel."  
>Hermione smiled slyly and, grabbing the clothes she had laid out for the day walked up to him and spoke softly in his ear. Her hand pressing against his bare stomach just above his waist, she knew he was still sporting his morning wood and she intended to tease him a little.<br>"I'm about to be wearing nothing at all, so I suggest you head into the shower big boy."  
>His answering groan of frustration was good natured and she knew he wouldn't hold the grudge. Especially when he pinched her bum as he walked past. She squeaked and turned to berate him but he was already out the door, chuckling as he went.<p>

She huffed in amusement as she pulled on her clothes. Harry was excellent at turning a tease around so that she was the one who ended up feeling flustered. It wasn't like she minded; she kept coming back for more after all. She spent a few minutes dealing to her hair. After third year her untameable hair had miraculously settled into simply 'bushy' and was now quite handle-able with a certain level of patience and hair clips. It was an effort but she could coax it into something that looked vaguely attractive if she spent the time on it. She knew Harry was attracted to her regardless of how she looked but she was never afraid of giving him a helping hand. It made her feel more attractive to know that he would always want her, not just for her mind but for her looks too, and that in turn gave her an extra nudge of confidence.

When she felt she was properly attired to dealing with a train full of teenagers she turned to the packing and grinned. This was one thing Hermione never thought she would get used to, packing with magic, in her youth she would have to pack the night before with her parents if they were going somewhere for a period of time. It would take the four of them hours and they would need to agonise over everything for the best luggage space. With magic it was so much simpler. She simply waved her wand in a broad sweeping motion and everything that she needed flew elegantly into her trunk and folded itself neatly. She took a moment to pack for Harry as well and the two of them were suddenly ready to leave, aside from Harry's current state of undress of course.

She quashed the thought brutally; this was not the time to be getting aroused. She sat on her bed up against the headboard and opened her book, her thoughts were brushed away under the power of the spells she was reading about and she lost herself in the words.

-:-

She was still like that when Harry returned from his shower a few minutes later; he had gotten dressed in the bathroom and had tossed his towel in the laundry hamper as he entered their room. The sight that struck him was one of pure peace, his Hermione sitting on her bed with a book propped up in her lap reading. If she could be doing this then everything was right in the world. For a moment he forgot about the school year coming, about Ron's death which still laid heavily on his mind, he forgot about the impending sense of doom that had followed him since Valmortis had introduced himself. All of those concerns melted away in the face of Hermione's utter peace with the world. He spotted the trunks, already packed, on the floor in front of the bed and Hedwig's cage sitting on the table under the window. Crookshanks was curled up next to his mistress, one of Hermione's hands absently scratching between his ears.

This was what perfection looked like, his sweetheart calm and collected, sitting on their bed reading till her heart's content. He promised himself right then that he would fight to give Hermione a life where she could live like this; carefree, peaceful, content. He moved over to her slowly, not wanting to startle her, and quietly settled on his side of her double bed. Getting comfortable he reached out and laced the fingers of his left hand with the fingers of her right hand that was still petting her Kneazle. His eyes were still locked on her face when she turned, a smile already blooming on her expression as he leaned in to give her a soft kiss.  
>"Good morning sweetheart."<br>This was what he would fight for, these moments of peace. He didn't know what was coming, but he wouldn't stop until the world was in enough order that Hermione could have this peace again, so that they could have this peace again.

-:-

The pair of them stayed laying there on the bed for another half hour or so before Harry went down to makes the family breakfast. Early on in the month Dan and Emma had realized that Harry was an excellent cook. Something about being forced to cook by the Dursley's and having an affinity with the creative aspect of cooking had merged inside of him to create a natural connoisseur of the culinary arts. Hermione's parents, no, their parents, had thought that it would be a great thing for Harry to develop his skills. He and Emma had spent many evenings cooking in the kitchen, making the family meal. The pair had formed a fast bond of not only friendship, but also familial love. Emma was the perfect mother for Harry. She was caring and understanding, firm when she needed to be, but at the same time lenient and not at all strict. Above all she protected her family furiously. He liked to think Lily had been like that.

For her own part Emma was revelling in the fact that she had a son. Raising a daughter had its own quirks and dramas but Emma had always regretted not being able to get pregnant again. Something had happened during her labour with Hermione that had permanently prevented her from having more children. Harry was her chance at having the son she had never thought possible, and while it might not be official yet she already treated him as such. It helped that he was such a lovely boy, always willing to help. Comfortable talking to both her and Dan as if they had been a family for years, insightful and courageous enough to make important and deep remarks. Not to mention that he was the perfect match for her daughter. Emma had often been concerned that Hermione wouldn't find someone she could truly love; absorbed in her books as much as she was Hermione hadn't always inspired confidence in Emma that she would have a healthy social life.

This relationship that she had with Harry wasn't only welcome, but it was about the best situation they could ask for. Now both she and Dan would have the chance to make sure that Harry had the correct ideas about how to treat, who she privately believed, to be his future wife. Dan would be able to mould him into the perfect gentleman, although he was mostly there already. And Emma, for her part, would be able to make sure that he was aware of some of the more difficult aspects of living with a woman and how to look after her. They couldn't have asked for a more willing recipient of their knowledge either, Harry seemed actively obsessed with becoming the best person he could be.

All of this meant that Harry was already treating Emma like the mother he had never had, and Emma was treating Harry like the son she had never thought would be possible, and they quickly formed a firm relationship that would last them their entire lives. When Hermione and their parents came down a few minutes later it was to a table already set with breakfast waiting for them, Hermione and Emma both kissed Harry's cheek and Dan gave him warm thanks. The family sat down to eat their last breakfast together before Christmas and it was a decidedly quiet affair.

Harry had decided that morning with Hermione in his arms that he would do anything to protect her, to fight for her right to be free of torment and persecution. But he realized that equally he would fight for their parents, he would fight for Emma and Dan to live as they pleased in a world that did not wish to marginalize them or push them away from being able to live healthy productive lives. Harry knew instinctively that something was going on in the world. Valmortis had not made idle threats, and had not hesitated to strike Hermione down in front of Harry, despite the fact that Ron had taken the curse in her stead.

This was all leading to something, what he didn't know, but something told him he would be in the thick of it. So then, if his own safety wasn't enough he committed himself to coming out of whatever he was forced into, not only alive, but also victorious. He would win, so that Hermione and her parents could live in peace and happiness.

The drive into Kings Cross in London was a long one, and when they got there they were forced to have their goodbyes at the barrier. Emma and Dan could not pass through. Emma gave both of her children, blood or otherwise, a warm hug, and instructed them, nay, ordered them, to be safe. Dan gave Harry a firm hand shake and Hermione a brief hug before he let them go through the passage, his only words to Harry, a brief 'You look after her now son, and we'll see you at Christmas.'

-:-

The platform was rowdy and tense, people were on edge after the world cup, news had spread fast and the entire wizarding world was taut, prepared for that instinctive flight or fight response if something else should interrupt their calm lives. Ron's death was no secret, he was a member of a prominent Pure-blooded household, even if the Weasley's were seen as second class, and they were still an old family. And the loss of one of their sons wasn't going to be passed over lightly in the press.

Hermione was conflicted about this, while she was satisfied that Ron was being remembered by a great many people, his posthumous fame something that Ron would have chuckled at had he been there to hear of it. She could not help but be insulted at the fact that nearly a dozen other people had died that night, including three muggleborns and all four of the Muggles that had been at the campground (Likely the owners of the out-of-the-way location). Their deaths were not nearly as well publicised, merely a four line each eulogy in the classifieds. It sickened her.

She had thought upon entering the magical world that she was going to a magical place where she could have a fresh start, people wouldn't only see her bookishness, and indeed maybe it would help her in a world where personal ability was clearly the emphasis. But she had been horribly mistaken, her own achievements in school, arguably the brightest witch to ever have gone through Hogwarts, were ignored in favour of the purebloods. Malfoy and Nott aside, although they were some of the most obvious offenders, favour was also given to the likes of Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot and other pureblood sons.

It was distasteful to think about, but the 'sons' aspect of that mental statement was just as relevant as the 'pureblood' part. The fact that Hermione was muggleborn aside the fact that she was a woman was almost of a hindrance. The wizarding world was far behind Muggle society in that woman's suffrage wasn't even a concept. Pureblood women were raised and then sold off to their future husbands without even a backward glance at the daughters condemned to living in a life of hardship and potential rape at the hands of their new husbands and the political 'friends' they would be inevitably loaned out to.

Ironically the fact that she was a muggleborn actually helped in that regard, as she knew her father would never sell her off for money or politics, the fact that Dan approved of Harry notwithstanding. And she could count on Harry to love and respect her for the rest of her life. Young women like Susan bones and Hannah Abbot would not be so lucky, even in loyal Hufflepuff the practise was common and not even thought twice about.

Aside from marriage prospects and school accolades, her future life in the Wizarding world was at serious doubt. As a muggleborn, and then further as a woman, Hermione doubted that she would ever truly have a position of note where she could make a difference. Woman of success, like the esteemed Amelia Bones, and Minerva McGonagall, were where they were today because they had avoided falling into the trap of marriage to a pureblood. Further they had strong attitudes which allowed them to excel in the wizarding world. They were also both purebloods themselves.

Hermione was broken from her indignant thoughts as harry pulled her down onto his lap. She had not even realized that they were on the train. She must have absently followed Harry as he worked their way through the crowd. Now of course she couldn't do anything but focus on the young man who had cradled her in his arms. He was looking at her with an expression of devotion that melted her heart every time she saw it. Her hand went unbidden to his cheek and cupped it, before she leaned close for a kiss. His soft expression of love was joined by several words spoken in a low calm tone that had a hint of curiosity running through it.  
>"What were you thinking about love?"<p>

Hermione thought for a second about how to answer that, she knew that Harry was aware of the inequality of the magical world. That he often railed against the injustice of it and that he was quite happy to put snobbish idiots like Malfoy in his place should they ever seek to harm her. His protectiveness and indignant resolve towards her was heart-warming, she was well aware that a part of him wanted her to succeed just to rub it in their faces. Although she knew he wanted her to be successful for herself as well. Eventually she decided on the truth.  
>"I was thinking about how wonderful you are, especially in the face of everything you and I have to deal with on such an annoyingly regular basis."<p>

His answering grin was worth the effort to consider how to reply to her young man and he swooped down for another soft kiss. They were interrupted however as a read head burst into their compartment.  
>"There you are Harry, mum was so worried when she didn't see you get on the train, and I promised her I'd find you and make sure you were happy."<br>Hermione bristled at Ginny's words, not only had the pureblood girl ignored Hermione's presence entirely she had made a point of trying to obsolete her by claiming that she of all people was the one who could make Harry happy. What the girl said next however, was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

"Why don't you ditch this frumpy Mudblood and come and sit with me and Neville in our compartment? I know Ron's death hit you hard you should come and talk to us about it, maybe later you can discuss some other things with me… in private."  
>Hermione thought she was aware of how fast Harry could move, but she truly had no idea. He was moving before Hermione even had the chance to react, his hand connecting with Ginny's cheek with all the force that he had in his muscular arm. The red headed pureblood slammed against the wall of the compartment in a daze, blood flowing from a split lip and her arrogant and attempted seductive pose was abandoned for one of shock and hurt.<p>

Harry was not done however as he flicked his wand at the door, silencing the compartment. Hermione would reflect later that the words and sheer volume that emitted from her boyfriend, she could not have imagined coming from him in the past.  
>"You foul insensitive gold digging slut! Have you no shame?" Hermione and Ginny both winced, Ginny from the words, Hermione from the proximity to her exploding boyfriend, she knew he had a temper but she had honestly never seen it this bad before, here was the boy who had been locked under a cupboard for nine years, here was the boy who had been beaten and emotionally crushed, forced to defend the one person in his life who had given him true happiness. His volume reduced slightly but not by much as he continued.<p>

"I don't want your company, I don't want to discuss anything with you, let alone Ron, let alone anything in… private, and I don't want to hear one more word of your screeching nasally voice." Hermione felt more and more nervous with every word he spoke, he would hate himself for this later; the sheer vitriol in his tone was enough to set her hairs on end.

"I'll be writing to your mother, she can sort you out, in the meantime, get the fuck out of this compartment and get the hell out of my life. If I even catch wind of you looking at Hermione the wrong way, let alone insulting her like this again, I swear to Merlin that I'll make the rest of your life at Hogwarts a living hell, and if you even so much as dare to insult Ron's memory by using him as an excuse to get someone between your legs I'll make sure your father disinherits you. Now get out!" Those last words were punctuated with his hand gripping her upper arm and with a sharp motion, yanking open the compartment door and tossing her into the corridor. He slammed the door shut behind her and then immediately wilted. Hermione could see the pain in his eyes and how much that had taken out of him. She had no idea how he was feeling, but if she had to guess she would guess self-loathing at his losing control in such a spectacular way.

She moved forwards without a second thought and tugged her man into a hug. His arms wrapped around her almost desperately and she could hear the contrition in his voice as he apologized for his temper. Hermione simply held him not saying anything, she was proud of the things he had said and his vitriol in her defence, and the defence of Ron's memory, though she was not particularly happy with his manhandling her.

That fact alone, that Harry had raised a hand to Ginny in anger was, Hermione knew, probably the major reason for Harry's self-recriminations. He was desperately noble and liked to see himself as such. But when he did something like that his insecurities and doubts came rushing in, Hermione knew she had to be there for him, she couldn't let him think that he was any less than he was. And while he was flawed, (Who wasn't?) he was still a wonderful young man who she would happily devote herself to for the rest of her life.

She gently pressed her lips to his to stop his babbling but pulled away afterwards, looking him in the eye.  
>"You were angry Harry, I get that, and as thankful as I am for your protective words I'm not happy with the fact that you were so rough with her. She might have deserved it but you're better than that love." She saw his eyes become downcast and hated that she had to do this, but it was necessary so that he wouldn't do it again. She cupped his face with one hand as she often did when he was distressed and urged him to look at her<br>"Listen to me sweetheart. I'm not angry at you, we all do things we regret and as long as you don't do it again we won't have problems, but you need to learn how to handle that temper of yours, I won't tolerate you ever treating me like that or speaking to me in such a way. That whore deserved it but you'll do well to treat me with more respect if we have an argument."

She felt Harry nod into her hand and she kissed him again, pleased that she had defused the situation.  
>"Now why don't you come and let me curl up with you so we can relax? I know you're on edge and some peace would do you good."<br>They sat back down and as promised Hermione curled up to his side her head comfortably resting on his shoulder, she loved this, the fact that even when they were both stressed and strung out, or after even a disagreement, all they had to do was hold each other to feel at peace again.

Unfortunately the other occupants of the train didn't seem to want to let them enjoy it.

-:-

Draco Malfoy was feeling particularly arrogant as he walked down the central corridor between the compartments of the Hogwarts express. Everything was in his side of the basket right now, Parkinson was more attentive than ever, he'd been told by his father that his studies were progressing faster than Lucius had hoped, the Mudbloods were running scared after the world cup and one of those blood traitors was dead; killed by an agent of the dark lord. He decided that the best way to start the school year would be by giving himself a bit of a treat. There were plenty of Mudbloods on the train today, but only one would suffice, his eyes narrowed, that Granger bint had been stealing his limelight for years, her and that jumped up halfblood Potter.

It was about time to teach those two a lesson he thought as he stalked down the corridor, his two shadows present as ever. He couldn't help but be annoyed at Crabbe and Goyle, they were loyal, certainly, but totally useless. Not an ounce of cunning in either of them, and barely a brain to share between the two. They were raw muscle and that was about all they were good for, unfortunately after third year he knew Potter had filled out and even Crabbe and Goyle would be hard pressed to deal with the half blood, even in a Muggle duel. No, this was to be a battle of wands.

He glanced through each of the windows of compartments as he went past before he finally found his quarries they were snuggled up in the back of the compartment near the window sharing sickeningly sweet looks at one another. Without ceremony he flung the compartment door open, annoyed when it made no sound. Why would they silence the door? Instead he cleared his throat imperiously and made his usual comment,  
>"Oh look boys, it's the frumpy Mudblood and the lacklustre wonder himself. I thought you two would be balling your eyes out over the carrot topped pimple blood traitor you two seemed to keep around."<p>

He was deeply gratified when Potter's eyes met his blazing with fury, although the next words to come out of his mouth were perhaps a little hasty,  
>"Oh look, he's giving me the 'if looks could kill' impression, you terrify me Potter you really do."<br>He could see Potter about to rise from his seat to do, something, but to his great surprise the Mudblood beat him to it.  
>"Do I need to introduce your crotch to my knee Malfoy? I seem to remember your nose enjoying my fist's acquaintance." The memory brought a rush of anger to Draco's cheeks and as he opened his mouth to reply he didn't notice Potter's wand moving, he managed a word but was cut short as something heavy and very painful slammed into his groin.<br>"You fil…"  
>Crunch!<p>

-:-

Harry was rather proud of himself; the whispered levitation charm on his trunk had worked perfectly. Malfoy was slightly cross-eyed as he slumped sideways into the compartment door but was held up by his cronies before he could slump down. Apparently they knew their erstwhile master had been bested because they hauled him back down the corridor, the only mention of their passing was the wheezed curses coming from the blond boy. Harry sat back on the compartment seat and felt warm lips press against his cheek as the compartment door closed.

He looked across at Hermione to see her grinning happily, a cheeky look crossed her face before she said  
>"That's not quite what Professor Flitwick meant when he said swish and flick Harry!"<br>The dissolved into riotous laughter as he caught the implications and replied with his own quip  
>"Instead of Malfoy he should properly be Mal-boules!"<br>The laughter continued for several moments until they managed to get themselves together and fall into happy titters, each cuddling with the other, when the compartment opened again Harry nearly swore in annoyance, although the sight of Neville there made his eyebrows shoot up, was the pureblood scion here for vengeance or commiseration?

-:-

Hermione looked Neville over nervously, Harry hadn't been gentle with Ginny and the purebloods did tend to stick together. Neville's question seemed to be sufficiently neutral, like the mediator caught between his two friends which, Hermione reflected, he probably was.  
>"So what happened with Ginny earlier? Are you two both okay? She seemed to be exaggerating when she said Harry tossed her out on her arse and I'm worried she might have hexed one of you and was trying to cover up what she'd done."<p>

Hermione felt Harry wince beside her but she was proud when he said firmly  
>"I did toss her out, she's insulted Hermione for the last time and I'll not tolerate that from anyone. Malfoy got some of that a few minutes ago."<br>She saw Neville's eyebrows shoot up and he looked at her,  
>"I thought Ginny was your friend, what did she say to insult you?"<br>Hermione's throat closed up, she tried to speak but couldn't, she had thought Ginny was her friend too, funny how quickly that could change when someone started insulting the other's heritage. Harry, ever her protector, came to her rescue  
>"Nothing I'll repeat, suffice it to say she disparaged Hermione's parentage. And then she decided to use her brother's memory to try and get me into her bed."<p>

If Neville looked shocked before astounded might have been more accurate now, he stammered slightly as he tried to speak  
>"She… She wouldn't, surely not."<br>Hermione's eyes locked on Harry as she felt him tense, what was he thinking? It didn't take long to find out.  
>"Look Neville if you're not going to take me at my word maybe you should leave."<br>Neville's eyes locked on Harry's and his disbelieving tone rang through the compartment  
>"Look Harry I know you're pissed with Ginny but you don't have to lie about it, I know she wouldn't call Hermione that let alone... She's better than that!"<p>

Hermione's breath caught, was Neville really saying what she thought he was saying? Was he really taking Ginny's side over theirs, over Harry's? Her fears were confirmed a moment later when Neville turned and left, his parting words hanging in the air.  
>"I thought you were different Potter, but you're just like the prophet said, always wanting to get your way to everyone else's detriment. You're not the kind of person I associate with; I wish I'd figured that out sooner."<br>She was shocked, and Harry was too, she could tell by the way his breathing had stopped. She looked at him cautiously and saw what she feared, abandonment and betrayal were written all over his face.

Hermione didn't know what to say, neither of them would have expected Neville of all people to treat Harry with such disdain, she literally had no words to describe how surprised she was. Harry slowly seemed to come to a conclusion however as his eyes began to harden and she felt his muscles tightening like they had just before he'd slapped Ginny. He was priming for a fight, although she didn't know against what. He didn't say anything though, his arms simply held her close, protective and warm. Suddenly it hit her, purebloods, all of them. Ginny, Neville, even, and especially Draco, they saw Harry as second class, he was a half blood. He was someone who should accept what they said, let alone herself. Neville was obviously the most moderate of their three examples and she knew he would never insult her for her heritage, but he would never treat her as an equal either.

Her eyes began prickling with tears that she angrily tried to blink away, how could sweet Neville, the boy the pair of them had known since they were eleven, turn into such a spiteful young man? The dismissal in his tone as he left wrenched her heart. Did they even belong in this world? She felt herself lose control of her tears and Harry immediately pulled her against his chest, murmuring comfort. He was always there for her, always able to put aside his own feelings and needs to make sure she was happy. She loved him totally and when he next spoke she fell in love with him all over again.  
>"They don't matter love, you matter to me, I matter to you, we have our family and that's all we need. Let them be disdainful, let them sneer. We'll get our education and we'll leave, we'll take everything we need and we'll go, maybe not from Britain, but certainly from the Magical world. Your mum and dad have led full happy lives without magic, why can't we?"<p>

Hermione managed to pull her tears back and she thought hard about what he said, why couldn't they just leave them to their own devices? She knew the answer, it came in a flash of blinding understanding that made her spine stiffen and her heart tremble with comprehension.  
>"Because there are others Harry, all the muggleborns, all the halfblood who will be treated as second class, or worse. We can't just abandon them Harry, we have to make this world a better place!"<br>She looked up at him and was a little surprised to see doubt in his eyes.  
>"What's to simply stop the Muggleborns and Half Bloods from copying us Hermione? Why shouldn't we all just leave the purebloods to die out? Let them rot I say!"<p>

Harry's tone had risen steadily to a roar and he had stood up, Hermione's hand still in his as his anger trembles through him. He seemed to gain a modicum of control over himself and turned to her, his eyes determined, but soft and caring.  
>"We don't have to decide now; we have years ahead of us to plan and to prepare ourselves for whatever path we want to choose. In the mean time I'll protect you love, they'll think twice before insulting you."<p>

Hermione felt a swell of affection for him and stood going to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, her tone firm.  
>"And I'll protect you. You're the bravest man I know Harry Potter, you're honest and kind and you make time to be the best man you can be. If anyone wants to take question with that, they can see me and I'll set them straight."<p>

She ran her hands over his chest placating him as she spoke.  
>"Besides, with Voldemort running around they need you to save their asses anyway Mister."<br>Harry chuckled and Hermione squealed as he lifted her up and spun her around, a happy grin on his face.  
>"Why Hermione, one would think that you enjoy them being at my mercy."<br>Hermione smiled cheekily back at him before fluttering her eyes at him and pressing her chest against his, her husky voice whispering into his ear.  
>"Just as long as I'm the only woman you have at your mercy I'll be a happy witch Harry"<p>

Her heart flutters at the smouldering look in his eyes as he leans close and whispers back  
>"One day, on our wedding night, you will be at my mercy in every way Hermione. Remember that."<br>Hermione couldn't help but blush at the images that rose to mind but she ruthlessly suppressed them, now was not the time, they needed to be good. Instead she playfully slapped his bum before cheekily saying  
>"Well in that case you'd best make sure I'm willing, be a dear and go get some sweets from the trolley would you?"<p>

-:-

Hogwarts was glorious as they approached in their carriage later that evening, Hermione had given Harry plenty to think about and he was quiet as they rolled slowly up the road to Hogwarts. Across from him his beloved was looking out the window, lost in her thoughts. He knew when to give her space to think, and knew that she needed this time almost as much as he did, if not far, far more. Even her organised mind needed to be cleaned and reshuffled occasionally, and the revelations they had come to on the train were heavy on both of their hearts.

The idea that the purebloods would always treat them as second class citizens was something that appalled Harry. He knew full well that Hermione was the smartest witch or wizard he had ever met. He was certain that if they lived long enough she would even outstrip Dumbledore in intelligence. Dumbledore, that man's name sent a shiver of discontent up Harry's spine, he knew now what the old man had done, and keeping his parent's will from him and forcing him to live in the abusive home were some of the least of his crimes. He would have an accounting of the man, and soon. He hoped that Albus had motivations that actually made sense, if they didn't he couldn't help but be scared for his future. Regardless of how he wanted to spin it Professor Dumbledore still had Harry's life in the palms of his wizened old hands.

It was a difficult idea to swallow that regardless of anything Harry was still pinned down with not only the rest of his school years ahead of him, but whatever conflict was on the horizon, and lording over the entire affair like a self-proclaimed deity was the old fool himself. Harry gritted his teeth and fought back the urge to run far away from Britain, the words etched on the inside rim of the portrait hole in Gryffindor tower came to mind. 'Snakes slither, badgers trundle, ravens soar, but lions… Lions charge.'

-:-

When the carriage arrived at the castle Harry gently took Hermione's hands in his, she looked up at him, her eyes damp from supressed tears. Harry knew this was hard for her, the pair of them loosing friend after friend after friend, and it all of them were, arguably, because of one of their heritages, something neither of them could control. But it was crippling their base of friends anyway and there was nothing either of them could do. So Harry brought her close and held her in his arms, a solemn promise slipping from his lips.  
>"No matter what, I'll never leave you Hermione. My love, I'll be here, by your side, forever."<br>He felt Hermione's so far unshed tears now staining his shirt and he simply held her closer, moulding their bodies together, her answering words were like a balm to Harry's soul.  
>"Me too Harry, I'll never leave you either. As long as you want me, I'll be here." She trailed off, Harry felt like she wanted to say more and simply waited, and eventually she complied<br>"But… if… If you want someone else, I won't…" She never finished Harry's lips crashed to hers and he kissed her firmly. It was short and passionate, and when they broke apart he growled angrily.  
>"I'll never want anyone else, and don't you forget it."<p>

Hermione looked up at him her eyes bright  
>"Promise?"<br>He looked down at her, marvelling at the fact he had grown enough to do that and simply nodded  
>"Promise"<br>She sighed under her breath and Harry pulled her back into his hug for a moment before releasing her,  
>"C'mon love, we should get inside."<br>She backed away and smiled at him confidently and the pair collected their things and moved inside the castle, their trunks and pet carriers having somehow been moved to Gryffindor tower out from under their noses. Harry chuckled in the back of his mind at truly terrible pun  
>"It's just like magic!"<p>

-:-

As the pair sat down at the Gryffindor table they were greeted by warm smiles from Fred and George who, while being slightly reserved, were still laughing at something or other with their friend Lee Jordan. Further down the table Harry spotted Neville and Ginny as well as several others of their house mates, Dean Thomas was nowhere to be seen. The raven haired teen abruptly felt Hermione's hand clench painfully on his and he looked at her surprised, only to see a horrified look on her face, clearly she had made the same connection as him.  
>"Harry, wasn't Dean at the world cup?"<p>

Harry felt his heart break a little, he was sure they were jumping to conclusions but if… if Dean had died… He didn't rightly know how to deal with it, Dean was a good man, not the closest of friends to harry but they got along well. Had Dean been killed? Had he been targeted because of his parentage? Harry didn't know what to do with the information, what he do to deserve that? What did anyone do to deserve that? He felt his eyes prickling suspiciously and furiously blinked the tears away, he wouldn't cry for his fallen friend, not now in the middle of the great hall.

Fortunately Harry was broken out of his introspection as Professor McGonagall walked into the room with the traditional stool and sorting hat combo. Placing them in front of the head table she turned and silently went to collect the first years. It wasn't long before they were all lined up and waiting for the sorting song. When the hat had finished its tuneful offering to the hall, describing the traits of the four houses and ending with its usual witty remark, the sorting began apace. Harry and Hermione paid attention to the sorting, but only just barely, both of them were too caught up in their own thoughts. When the sorting was complete Albus took centre stage as was his wont and began the feast. Suddenly food was everywhere and Harry couldn't muster the required vitriol to remain angry at the headmaster, especially when he was the herald of such a wonderful meal. He and Hermione playfully fed each other bits and pieces when they thought no one else was looking, but they weren't really bothered if anyone did see. They were far too comfortable in their relationship at this point.

Eventually the feast wound down and Dumbledore again stood and gave the usual start of term notices, Harry and Hermione found themselves nodding along to the usual's and the new appointments of staff including one Alastor Moody for DADA, Harry privately hoped that the man wouldn't just die on the job with the amount of damage done to him. Then one particular statement took them very much by surprise;  
>"This year Hogwarts will be host to the Tri Wizard Tournament!"<br>Harry looked a little dumbfounded but was surprised when Hermione glanced at him nervously and groaned under her breath, she looked about to say something but Dumbledore continued  
>"Our school will play host to delegates from Beauxbatons Academy for Magic and Dumstrang School from the North. Additionally Mr Barty Crouch from our own department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr Ludo Bagman from the department of Magical Games and Sports will be joining us for the school year." At this Dumbledore gave a short bow to both men. Turning back to the hall he gestured broadly with his hands<br>"The Tri Wizard Tournament is one steeped in the history and tradition of our three schools, each school will have a single champion selected from it by an impartial adjudicator, these three champions will compete in the tournament for the Tri Wizard Cup, along with a thousand galleons in prize money and eternal glory."

Harry looked around, a little bewildered by this sudden introduction into the school year, many of the students around him were staring with rapt attention at the headmaster, including the twins who simultaneously intoned: 'Wicked', chuckling under his breath Harry faced front again.  
>"Unfortunately this will mean that the usual Quidditch tournament will have to be cancelled this year, and only students who are seventeen years of age may offer their names for selection…" Dumbledore's words were immediately drowned out by the angry protests of ninety percent of the student body; Fred and George were suddenly looking murderous and further down the table Harry could see Ginny scowling into his plate. Personally Harry wasn't fussed, he was plenty wealthy and 'Eternal Glory' was never something he aspired to have, never mind that he probably had it anyway.<p>

Harry let the rest of the speech be drowned out in his mind by a flood of thoughts that he felt were far more interesting that Dumbledore's rambling explanations. Eventually Harry felt a tugging on his sleeve, looking around bemusedly he realized everyone was heading back to their dorms and Hermione was urging him to his feet. Blushing slightly at his inattentiveness he clambered up and proffered his arm for her to take, making sure she wouldn't be swept away in the tide of people moving for the doors. Hermione gratefully slid her arm through his and gently kissed his neck, smiling warmly at him.  
>"You're such a gentleman Harry, what were you thinking about before?"<p>

Harry blushed even deeper at the praise and question, he stammered slightly as they moved slowly towards the doors to the Great Hall.  
>"Well mostly I was thinking about how much I'm going to miss waking up next to you or falling asleep with you in my arms."<br>Hermione got a sly look on her face as they disappeared behind a tapestry into one of the shortcuts Harry frequented.  
>"You still have your dad's cloak right?"<br>Harry nodded, wondering where she was going with this  
>"Yeah, but how does that help?"<br>She chuckled  
>"Well maybe we can sleep in the same bed anyway,"<p>

Harry thought for a second, excited, but then his face fell  
>"But the stairs to the girls' dormitory won't let me up."<br>He was surprised when Hermione snorted  
>"Please I wouldn't want you up there anyway, Lavender still walks around naked sometimes, and no I was thinking we could share your bed."<br>Harry raised an eyebrow at her before speaking  
>"That could work, how do you want to do the swap?"<p>

Hermione looked thoughtful for a second before clicking her fingers  
>"You can put it in my bag when we're in the common room, it shouldn't be too hard to mask, then I can just sneak out of the girls dorm later and come join you."<br>Harry swept her up into his arms for a heartfelt kiss  
>"I love you my brilliant lady."<br>Hermione smiled warmly at him, her arms looped around his neck and shoulders  
>"I like being called that"<br>"What, lady? Or brilliant?"  
>She shook her head and looked up at him, her soft brown eyes sparkling<br>"No, I like being called yours."

Harry's heart melted and Hermione laughed as he pressed a kiss into her neck moaning her name sexily. They were both mortified when they heard a pair of laughs from behind them. Harry turned, Hermione still in his arms to see the twins chuckling at them  
>"Hi there lover boy, can you call us yours too?"<br>Harry blushed and without a word dashed away the twins' cackling laughter ringing in their ears.

-:-

Hermione crawled into her four poster bed and drew the curtains closed at around nine that night. Everyone was pretty tired from the train journey and Hermione was taking advantage of the early turn in times of their house mates to put their plan into action. Soon when the two girls in her dorm with her were snoring in their sleep, she walked past them carefully already wrapped in the cloak. From there it was actually remarkably simple to steal across the common room and tiptoe up to the fourth year boys' dorm and quickly identify Harry's bed. Slipping between the curtains she curled up against her man's side and softly sighed. Harry pulled the cloak from her and leaned down for a sweet kiss.

Harry's husky voice fills her ear and Hermione shivers slightly in his arms  
>"So good of you to join me sweetheart, I was wondering when you were going to turn up."<br>Trying her best not to laugh Hermione whispers back to him  
>"Just as soon as I could sweetheart, set an alarm with your wand would you? I'll charm the curtains."<br>She then mutters a quick spell, her wand in her hand, which knits the hangings together and Harry, mutters a modified Tempus spell to make an alarm. The both of them slip their wands under Harry's pillow and Hermione cuddles up into his side, her head on his chest. She whispers softly into the darkness  
>"I love you Harry." The answering 'I love you too' came softly from Harry, Hermione could tell he was nowhere near sleep and she was much in the same boat, there was just too much to think about.<p>

Harry's words broke the comfortable silence between them  
>"I can't stay angry at him love."<br>Hermione thought she knew who he was talking about but muttered the name in question anyway,  
>"Dumbledore?" Harry's small nod was all the answer Hermione needed; she even knew why he was feeling this way. It was hard to hate the man when Harry was insulated from the horrors of his childhood by a month of happiness. Privately she wondered why Dumbledore hadn't said anything to Harry, in writing or person, why he couldn't stay with her. There must be a reason why he keeps going back their year after year, and yet apparently going to her house for a month of the holidays was no worries? She was confused and she knew Harry was too. They were missing something important in the puzzle of Dumbledore's treatment, or rather mistreatment, of Harry over the years.<p>

She felt something damp on her cheek and realized with a start that silent tears were running down Harry's face, she cooed softly to him and kissed him softly, doing her best to comfort Harry, gently asking what was wrong. Eventually he choked out in a quiet voice.  
>"There are only three beds in here now."<br>Hermione realized with a start that he was right; this dorm used to have five, now there were, and would only ever be, three. The loss of Ron and Dean was palpable at that moment and she held Harry as he wept for his fallen friends, Ron ripped away from them in the most horrible of ways. Dean slipping away in the middle of a chaotic night, she wondered if anyone had been with him who cared when he died.

They held each other long into the night, exchanging soft words of comfort and commiseration, and sometime near midnight, the both of them fell into a restful slumber, brought about by the comfort of each other's arms.

-:-

When Harry woke the next morning he groaned in satisfaction, Hermione's ass was pressed into his crotch and she was moving against him, rubbing against his length. Quietly he whispered to her  
>"What are you up to love?"<br>There was movement on the bed and when he opened his eyes it was to see Hermione's cheekily grinning face right in front of his.  
>"Well… When you didn't wake up to the alarm I decided to wake you up in a more pleasant fashion. I couldn't exactly go down on you with Neville and Seamus in here so I did the next best thing. I know how you like my ass."<p>

Harry growled softly under his breath and wrapped his arms around her, pulling Hermione close for a warm but slightly sleepy morning kiss. He was momentarily stunned by the lack of morning breath, it was a pleasant surprise. When they broke apart she waggled her wand at him,  
>"Breath freshening charm, I can use magic to sort that out now."<br>Harry grinned softly and rolled onto his back, tugging her with him until she lay on top of him, slightly spread eagled and straddling his stomach. Softly he kisses her over and over until she's having to supress giggles.  
>"Stop it you beast, I need to go and head back to my dorm."<br>Harry gave his best pout but Hermione simply kissed it, before throwing the cloak over her and, after cancelling the charms on the curtains, slips out of the dorm in the dawn light.

Harry groans and lies back against the covers, first day of school and she was already teasing him. He had no idea how he was going to cope until Christmas. Instead of rising immediately he let himself lie in until he heard the moving about of Neville and Seamus. Using that as his cue he got out of bed and, while Neville was giving him the cold shoulder, Seamus was chatty enough, although subdued with the loss of his closest friend. Harry reached the common room to find Hermione waiting for him with a grin. He proffered his arm, ignoring the sour looks of any of the girls in the room, and gently kissed her again going through the motions of greeting her for the 'first time' that morning.

They made their way down to breakfast in a comfortable silence, they didn't need to talk; there were no words between them that needed to be said past the occasional gentle murmur of endearment. They sat down at the Gryffindor table and got their timetables from Professor McGonagall, she gave them a knowing smile, at which they both blushed, was she aware of Hermione's night time wanderings? And they looked down at their timetables; Mondays were, thankfully, a godsend, double history first followed by Divination and care of magical creatures after lunch. Until care Harry could almost sleep through this day. Hermione was well aware of how he used History for catching up on sleep.

Midway through last year Hermione had finally given up on Binns when he began repeating the same material every day. They had no idea what Dumbledore was playing at keeping him around but it seemed like the old ghost had finally gone round the twist and no one knew why the only thing he would talk about was the migration of European wizards Northwards from Greece and Rome. Hermione didn't sleep though the class, not even a failure of a professor could induce that, but she did use the time for other homework. That morning however, with no homework to do, Hermione simply played with Harry's hair as he slept and watched over him fondly, undisturbed by her classmates as most of them, bar the more studious Ravenclaws that they shared the class with, were sleeping too. When she woke him up gently just before the end of the class they shared a chaste kiss before heading to lunch.

Lunch itself was ordinary, but Fred, George and Lee bounced into seats across from them and started rambling about their new DADA teacher.  
>"He just… knows."<br>Harry looked at his timetable and groaned; they didn't have him till Wednesday just after lunch.

-:-

Wednesday rolled around remarkably slowly but when the first DADA lesson of the year for the Hogwarts fourth year Gryffindors finally arrived, the hype was unbelievable. Harry and Hermione, both eager to see just how good the ex auror really was, were first into the class and took two seats at the front. They didn't need to wait long. The heavy thumping from Professor Moody was soon heard and then the door to the classroom crashed open, making everyone jump. In silence the man with the roving eye went to the front of the room and turned to face them. His voice was deep and rough, as if his vocal chords had been flayed.

"My name is Alastor Moody, Ex Auror, here to teach defence against the dark arts as a special favor to Dumbledore. One year you get, then I'm gone, I have one year to teach you as much as I know and we won't be dealing with silly year differences. You're fourteen or older now; at this point in your lives your magical cores are totally stable. They will continue to grow for another decade yet but they are stable. That means you can begin to learn advanced magical theories. Everyone from fourth year through seventh will be learning the same course from me this year and I expect total dedication from all of you. Anyone who doesn't want to take this seriously and will natter, or gossip, or chew gum in my class, can leave now."

His voice ended in a tone like rolling thunder. No one moved. Immediately his disposition brightened and he snatched up a piece of chalk  
>"Right then, who can tell me what the requirements of a spell are?"<br>This non-sequiter was met with hesitation by the class; predictably Hermione raised her hand first. Moody pointed to her  
>"Miss…?"<br>"Granger sir, all spells have three main parts, will, incantation, and magic; the will of the caster for the spell to succeed in a desired manner, the incantation to guide the will of the caster, and the caster's magic, to provide the power for the spell."

Moody wrote rapidly putting her definition on the board  
>"Excellent fifteen points to Gryffindor, five for each of the three parts to a spell. That's exactly right Miss Granger, and all spells in known understanding have these parts. There is silent nonverbal casting, but the spell still has an incantation, it's simply thought in your head. However, can anyone tell me the difference between spells and sorcery?"<br>When no one else raised their hand Hermione tentatively raised hers, Moody raised an eyebrow at her before pointing and encouraging her to speak.  
>"Sir, sorcery is the magical manifestation of the caster's will."<p>

Moody looked at her for a second before shrugging and speaking up,  
>"Not quit, take another five points for at least being brave enough to try. That is a good definition for sorcery but it doesn't tell us the difference. And it is quite a simple one. Spell casting requires an incantation, and while some, if not most, spells require a wand movement; it is not a requirement of spell casting itself. Eventually spells can be cast by a competent and skilled practitioner without a wand or other foci at all. And that is the key difference between spell casting and sorcery, spells require an incantation, sorcery requires a wand."<p>

Harry was riveted, drinking in every word the old auror said. He wasn't usually one for theory but this was fascinating to him. Hermione glanced across at her boyfriend and grinned, seeing Harry this attentive was almost arousing for her. Moody was still talking however.  
>"Sorcery, as Miss Granger so elegantly put for us earlier, is the magical manifestation of the practitioner's will. Simply put, you're forcing your magic into the shape and function you desire, through sheer willpower. Now, most of you will never be masters at this, sorcery requires a certain level of magical strength that not everyone has. It also requires concentration and drive, without concentration your sorcery will be unfocused and ineffective; you must have a clear picture of what you want to do in your mind as you cast. And drive is absolutely essential for providing the required magical force in your sorcery. Now, everyone stand up and get out your wands."<p>

Everyone scrambled to obey, a wands out class was always more interesting. When everyone was standing Moody waves his wand in a tight arc moving the desks to the walls and stacking them neatly. With his strange gait he walks into the middle of the room, everyone getting out of his way.  
>"You'll learn sorcery in many of your classes in the years to come, what I just demonstrated was an application of sorcery from the charms branch of magic, a simple, incantation less, mass locomotion sorcery. The charms branch of sorcery is known as enchantment, the transfiguration branch; hexwork, here in defence against the dark arts, we have UMF Casting."<p>

Everyone looked at each other in confusion, UMF Casting? Moody asked whether someone could tell him what UMF Casting was, when no one raised their hand Moody carried on without pause as if nothing had interrupted him.  
>"UMF is short for Unrestrained Magical Force, in other words you're pushing your magic out of your wand in a violent fashion with the intent to harm your opponent or block an incoming spell or sorcery. The first thing I'll be teaching you is how to block an attack. I need a volunteer."<p>

Hermione was slightly shocked when harry got his hand up first, and then admonished herself slightly; this was what her man lived for. She knew sorcery would be right up his alley with his iron sense of purpose and incredible magical potential. Moody shocked no one by picking Harry and inviting him forward.  
>"You Potter?"<br>Harry nodded  
>"Right then, you left or right handed?"<br>Harry waved his right hand holding his wand  
>"In that case, what I want you to do is hold your left hand in front of you, fingers slightly bent and facing forwards, imagine claws or talons, there you go. Now I want you to reach inside yourself for the source of your magic, the place you go to concentrate when you're casting a spell. Latch onto that source and grip it with your mind, imagine a funnel of energy moving from your wand, to your hand. Tell me when you've got that."<p>

Hermione watched Harry, fascinated with the look of incredible concentration on his face, when he nodded tightly Moody spoke again.  
>"Right, now I'm going to back off, and fire a stinging hex at you, I want you to intercept the hex with your left hand and just as the spell is going to reach you, I want you to force your magic through that funnel you're imagining and in front of your hand; ready Potter?"<p>

Hermione was nervous, harry was good, but would he manage this on the first try? She didn't want to imagine how painful a stinging hex on the hand would be all day. Moody put about five meters of space between them and raised his wand. Harry concentrated, and then nodded. Moody raised a general purpose warding around the room to keep the other students safe before he roared the incantation for a stinging hex and Hermione would have missed what happened next if she had blinked. The bolt of white energy from Moody's wand streaked towards Harry but at the last second Harry raised his hand and intercepted the hex. With a strange buzzing sound the hex ricocheted off Harry's hand and then with a hissing sound smashed into the floor leaving a scorch mark. Moody grinned, somehow making his face look even more menacing,  
>"Good Potter, five points to Gryffindor for successfully blocking the spell. Can anyone tell me why that happened?"<p>

Harry, to Hermione's great surprise, raised his hand before she had even begun considering the problem, clearly it had already been on his mind  
>"Yes Potter?"<br>"Sir spells are made of magic, at their core that's all a cast spell is, magic with a purpose, a goal. Richardson's law of Magic states that magical energy cannot push though magical energy with a different purpose or goal. That's why two identical spells cast at the same time won't collide, but two different spells will. They cannot move through each other so the force and velocity behind the spells get changed to a different direction as they try to get around each other, but because of the nature of most spells they don't have the energy to execute a tight curve and thus simply ricochet sideways or up and down. From what I understand I was forcing pure magic out of my hand away from me, creating an area of magic that has no purpose and is simply a null zone. Thus no magical spell or I imagine, sorcery, could pass through it because their purposes will never match. It's simply a field of impenetrable magic."

At that moment Hermione couldn't have been more proud of her boyfriend and nearly squealed with happiness when moody awarded him another ten points.  
>"That's exactly right Potter, and while the size of that field is extremely limited, maybe thirty centimetres in diameter, it can block any spell known to wizard kind. The only limitation is the comparative amounts of power. Can anyone tell me what inertia is?"<br>Most of the class looked totally dumbfounded but Hermione of course, coming from a Muggle background, knew the answer.  
>"Inertia is the unwillingness of an object to change its velocity, the bigger it is, the bigger its inertia, essentially speaking large, heavy objects is difficult to move." Moody looked at her hard for a second before speaking<br>"Very good Miss Granger, another five points to Gryffindor, this is a concept that Muggles have developed to describe certain properties in their science, dead useful it is too for helping to describe sorcery. The concept of inertia passes into magic, specifically magical inertia, which is as follows: 'A spell will seek to maintain its velocity and direction at the expense of power.' Simply put, spells hate changing direction or speed, and will rather loose energy than change course. Of course this is both useful to us and completely useless. Because spells cannot loose or gain power once they have left the wand, so instead of losing energy to avoid changing direction, spells are simply forced out of the way simultaneously, more powerful spells will of course have their direction changed less than other spells, but no spell will remain in the same course if it hits another spell. And in spell casting, it doesn't matter how powerful or otherwise the caster is, every spell uses a set amount of magical strength. Having a huge reservoir of magical energy just allows you to cast more and more conventional spells before you tire yourself out. Sorcery on the other hand, is much different. UMF Casting, or as we have been calling it, sorcery, is a measure of one's power, as the sorcerer casting the spell can force as much power as they want into the spell, this means that there is a vast difference between the spell that say, a first year could cast, and the spell a seventh year could cast. Because not only are their cores of different strengths, but they also have a different level of determination and will, required to keep the sorcery in a unified cohesive force of magic."

Moody pauses for a second, looking around the room at the rapt attention of all present.  
>"This obviously has impact now on our law of Magical Inertia. If a sorcerer can put out more power into their spells, they can of course force their way through conventional spells. My stinging hex rebounded off of Potter's shield because it couldn't expend any power to force Potter's shield out of the way, but Potter wasn't moved by the impact because his shield will have lost a portion of energy holding itself in place, before it was refreshed by Potter's reservoir of power. In this way a more powerful sorcerer can simply overwhelm a weaker one, simply by force of will. Now before the lesson ends we're going to put all of your through your paces. Pair off an alternate practicing your shields and stinging hexes; instructions for creating your shield are in your copies of Sorcery: The amateur's guide, in the second chapter if you've forgotten already."<p>

The rest of the lesson was given over to the class practising their shields, both Hermione and Harry proved more than capable of creating their shields whenever needed, but Harry was able to keep his shield up for longer against a sustained assault of hexes and was better at positioning it to intercept the spells. When they left Moody's class with their homework assignments (A twelve inch essay on the implications of the Law of Magical Inertia in sorcery) they were grinning from ear to ear. This was going to be an interesting year.

-:-

AN4: Um… Hi guys… The chapter's kind of late isn't it? Sorry about that. It took me a while to write the DADA lesson as I had to keep going over the theory to make sure I wasn't contradiction myself. Anyway, here's the chapter!

AN5: Review Responses:  
>Laugh0ften: Nah, the twins have more level heads than that, and Hermione was going to do so… but Harry kinda beat her to the punch, literally.<p>

Beyondthesea: Thanks! I did my best with the smut not to make it *super raunchy* but I thought it was tasteful enough; Hermione will get her chance soon. But Harry is in overprotective mode after the world cup, so she's sort of just bemusedly watching him do it for her right now.

Elizabeth: Thanks! Here's some more

Anotherboarduser: Well… with sorcery they automatically have a way of dealing with people in a permanent fashion, DADA lessons will be a source of me explaining this magic further and explaining some of its implications in the world.

HarryHermione: Thanks!

4884: Um… yeah, sorry but no. Harry sees Emma as a mum, not as a… ewwww

Blackgoose: I have loyal readers? Squeeeee, Sorry about author's note lengths, usually I use them as a way of getting something off my chest about the chapter, you don't have to read them if they bug you.

Dante: *blinks* my god that is a big review, THANKYOU, aww that's so sweet of you to say. Well… here's another chapter, sorry about the wait on that btw :/ I'm usually better than this. As for your point about the POV… why the balls didn't I think of that? *Angry muttering* If I ever do a re-write of the fic (most likely going to be a thing), then you can be sure I'll take that advice. And yeah… totally missed that, ah well, another thing to be added later I suppose.

Vega'sman: Yeah… maybe not Neville… I usually have nothing against him, but I needed to take a few liberties with his character for the purpose of the fic. Similar to what I did with Ron, although in a different direction, and heh, yes he did. Not that we heard them.

Alright that's all, thanks for reading and all the other shenanigans that go on! I hope to have the next chapter up much sooner, like in the next couple of days. I feel appalling for leaving this one so late. Thanks again, and I'll see you all next time!

LGreymark


	8. The Delegates

AN: Disclaimer as per usual, I don't own the HP universe yadda yadda

AN2: Bit of smut in this chapter at the end

AN3: just want to acknowledge my wonderful new beta reader KayKrisU! Without her this chapter would have many more mistakes.

-:-

Chapter Seven: The Delegates

Hogwarts life continued at pace for Harry and Hermione. Every morning they woke up together and after Hermione had snuck back to her dorm they would meet and head down to breakfast for their day. Mondays quickly became both the most relaxed and most terrifying day at Hogwarts for the fourth years. Relaxed because History of Magic continued to be a glorified excuse for extra sleep, yet terrifying because Hagrid had unleased his newest threat upon Hogwarts, Blast-Ended Skrewts.

Divination of course was a write off, and in their second week Harry decided he'd had enough and went to McGonagall asking for a transfer to Arithmancy; McGonagall was sceptical that Harry could handle the workload, but he quickly proved that he had a natural affinity for the arithmetic code's underlying mathematics and quickly surged to the top of the class. Hermione, despite what most of the students thought, was unbelievably proud that Harry was embracing his education. While most of their year was sure she hated being beaten in not only DADA, where Harry was quickly becoming a prodigy, but also in Arithmancy which was considered one of the hardest courses at Hogwarts.

Potions was for want of a better word, tolerable. It seemed that Professor Snape had simply decided to ignore Harry and it led to a dramatic increase in his grades. In fact across the board Harry's academia was improving post haste, and in the common room three weeks after the start of term Hermione confronted Harry about his sudden upswing in achievements.

-:-

Hermione was sitting next to her boyfriend with both of them reading from their respective Arithmancy text books, Harry occasionally scratching a word or number onto a list of formulae in front of him. Hermione couldn't seem concentrate. Harry's newfound studiousness was, despite her being very proud of him, totally baffling and she couldn't understand the change. Almost timidly she closed her book and gently took Harry's hand.  
>"Sweetheart we need to talk."<p>

Harry's panicked look up at her made her laugh; she patted his cheek and kissed him softly before he could say anything  
>"No silly boy I'm not breaking up with you." He visibly relaxed and grinned sheepishly<br>"Sorry Hermione I think there's a built reaction in the male psyche to those words." Still chuckling she tugged him closer. Bemused Harry closed his book and set it down with his quill, his concerned words made her heart melt a little  
>"What's up love?"<br>She smiled up at him and asked the question that had been on her mind. "Where did this sudden thirst for learning come from Harry? You're at the top of the class, not only in DADA which I think we can both agree you have a passion for," Harry nodded, smiling as she continued. "But also in Arithmancy which, don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you for, but it's just confusing. You've never been particularly studious and now suddenly you're at the top of our year in two classes and you're nipping at my heels for charms, transfiguration, and potions. I think you'll probably slide ahead of me in charms before the end of the year."

Harry grinned at the compliments, but it was a shy grin, he was clearly uncomfortable about the whole thing but he said softly, "I don't have to be afraid of success anymore sweetheart."  
>Hermione looked at him a second before dawning comprehension fell over her eyes and her look became flinty. "What did he do to you?"<br>Harry flinched slightly but spoke anyway. "When I was still going to Muggle Primary school, I got a ten out of ten on maths test that we did, Dudley only got four. Vernon didn't feed me for a week."

Hermione gasped slightly and clutched at him, her eyes tearing up, the obvious conclusion coming to mind. "The school sends your results to the Dursleys doesn't it?"  
>Harry nodded, and Hermione could see him swallow dryly. "I was always afraid of being even the most remotely successful at school. But with your parents adopting me, I don't need to be afraid anymore."<br>Hermione held him close as his voice hitched at the end, she could feel her shoulder go damp where Harry's tears were forced into the fabric of her shirt as she clutched him to her. A sense of undaunted fury ran through her. Harry was a wonderful young man who was kind, compassionate, and brave and intelligent she learned, and they tried to beat and starve it out of him.

They ruined his childhood so that their own whale of a son could feel superior to a boy two years his junior. With James Potter and Lily Evans as his parents Hermione always wondered why Harry wasn't brighter. He had the pedigree for incredibly potential, but he never showed it. Apparently that had been on purpose. It suddenly made sense why he was able to perform all the spells they were taught perfectly. He might have appeared to struggle in the past, but she was sure that he knew and could happily perform any of the spells from their time at Hogwarts. It also explained why they got along so well. He could challenge her intellectually even if she didn't realize it at the time.

The pair of them stayed like that for a time, just holding each other. When they eventually moved apart and settled back on their work Hermione felt an incredible sense of excitement for their next DADA class. Now that she knew the cause of Harry's sudden change in academic prowess she was eager to see him in an environment where he excelled.

-:-

DADA that Wednesday was exciting for not only Hermione, who was looking forward to seeing Harry in what she considered was his natural habitat, but also for the rest of the fourth year Gryffindor's. Moody had proclaimed them at least passably competent at the duellers shield after a surprise mini exam last Thursday, where he had thrown all manner of hexes and charms at them; to test not only their shield, but also their reflexes and ability to dodge. Harry remained the only one in the class who could resist Moody's assault for more than a minute or two. This became particularly impressive when one considered that Harry had quickly mastered the art of only blocking when he absolutely had to, preferring to dodge all other attacks so as to keep his strength for an assumed counter attack.

At the end of the last lesson Moody, having pronounced them all competent at the shielding and dodging for the time being, had promised them they would start to learn offensive sorcery in the next lesson. Hermione hid a quiet snigger when she heard that they were the only class school wide apart from the NEWT classes that had achieved this so early. She knew why too. Harry was an excellent tutor and Moody had him move around the room helping others whenever he mastered what they were working on for the day, Hermione fancied that Moody was taking Harry under his wing somewhat as the ex Auror often called upon Harry for demonstrations. Moody didn't even bothering to have the pretence of asking for volunteers anymore. After the second lesson it was abundantly clear that Harry was going to have his hand up first every time.

The class filed into the room and sat at their desks. After the first lesson Moody had arranged for an extension charm on his classroom and now the desks were arranged in a circle around the centre of the room which was essentially a large duelling ground. Moody caught Harry's eye and gestured for him to remain in the middle as the rest of the class was seated. Hermione took his bag to his desk for him earning an appreciative smile from her boyfriend. Harry stood somewhat nervously, despite his excellence in the class he still hated the spotlight of being in the front all the time. Hermione was proud of him that he pushed the emotion aside in favour of taking the initiative and being eager to do what he could in class.

When everyone had finished shuffling around Moody raised his voice and began speaking.  
>"So far you've all heard me ramble on about the benefits of a strong defence. The ability to strike from a position of strength, the time to observe your enemy and learn their patterns, the capability to begin bending the fight in the direction you want it to go without having to raise your wand to attack. That's all true, a strong defence is the key to winning any duel, dodging and shielding are your best friends, especially against a more skilful or knowledgeable foe."<p>

He stopped talking a moment and gestured for some space between himself and Harry. "That said the best defence is of course?"  
>The class all answered in unison, "Constant vigilance!"<br>Moody nodded his head, "Exactly knowing who and where your foe is, is absolutely vital, moreover, knowing exactly what your foe is doing is even more so. Can anyone tell me what the easiest defence in conventional duelling is?"  
>Harry waited a moment before raising his hand.<br>"Yes Potter?"

"Knowing what spell your opponent is casting sir. If you know what your opponent is casting then you can know exactly how fast you need to be to dodge or block the incoming spell. And how to counter it, additionally if you know the counter spell you can reflect your opponent's attack and force them to deal with their own assault."

Moody nodded, "And how do you know what spell your opponent is casting?"  
>"They speak the incantation sir, or if you're fast enough, you can identify the wand movements."<br>Nodding again Moody poses one final question, "And if neither of those options are available? A silent reductor for instance, has no wand movements and only requires general aim."  
>Harry thought for a moment before speaking. "If you are far enough away from your opponent you might be able to identify the spell from its colour as it moves towards you, else you must assume the worst of the spell and dodge it, because if it has enough inherent power to break through your shield then you could be injured or killed."<p>

Moody growled in appreciation. "Excellent answer Potter, take five for Gryffindor. Those are all excellent points. But as soon as you start dealing with sorcery, all of that goes out the window. Sorcery, as you are already well aware, has no colour. It's not visible, at best, with a really strong casting, you might see a distortion in the air. So you can't identify with that, there are obviously no incantations in sorcery so that is obsolete. All you have on your side is your opponent's wand movements. And even then the same wand movement could be used for a variety of things. For example, I could quickly flick my wand up with the intention of firing a cutting sorcel in an uppercut motion, or I could flick my wand upwards intending for my target to be thrown into the air; two totally different sorceries with two completely different counters. Same wand movement, no incantation. Obviously difficult to defend against with conventional methods, but at the end of the day, the sorcery still has to travel from my wand to the target. That means that at some point along the way you can either dodge or block the attack. Dodging is obviously preferable as it conserves your energy to block additional attacks, but dodging is also difficult when you cannot see what is coming. When you don't know the range of the spell. Blocking also becomes remarkably tricky. How then do we defend against something that we cannot see coming?"

He left the question hanging in the air, clearly waiting for someone to come up with an answer. Hermione considered the situation, and what she knew. How did one defend against an attack that they couldn't reliably dodge or block? Harry's hand went up and she locked her attention on him, this was the kind of question his mind excelled at answering, tactical, requiring out of the box thinking.  
>"Yes Potter?"<p>

"Sir, the best way to defend against an attack that you cannot reliably dodge or block is to prevent your opponent from attacking in the first place, and only falling back on dodging and blocking as a last resort."  
>Hermione felt a wave of understanding, of course, if your opponent was locked down under the weight of your own attacks then how could they retaliate?<p>

Moody clapped his gnarled hands together and exclaimed, "Excellent Potter, ten points to Gryffindor. You're exactly right; the best defence is in fact a good offence. Taking the initiative and putting your opponent on the back foot, forcing them to evade your attacks is an essential part of any strategy, because as well as someone can defend the attacker always has the upper hand one on one, they have the ability to dictate the pace of the duel, they can herd their opponent with attacks and force them into a corner for the finishing blow. THAT is what we will learn next, attacks, and how best to utilize them to keep yourself out of the situation where you have to defend."

The class felt the pitch of the lesson change, before they were simply listening and taking notes, now they knew they would have to actively pay attention, Moody rarely repeated himself and what he was going to say in the next few minutes would be the most important part of the lesson.  
>"Potter, you know by now I am sure, how to touch your magic?"<p>

Harry nodded quickly, listening intently to Moody and what he would be required to do next. Moody turns back to the class at large.  
>"A demonstration is in order here. I'm about to show Potter, and by extension the rest of you, how to perform what is known as a 'jab sorcel' for reasons that will become apparently obvious. Now this is an attack, make no mistake. If you cast this sorcery you are turning your wand into a weapon, casting this spell on someone except in the cases of self-defence automatically earns you a month's stay in Azkaban and a two hundred Galleon fine. This is serious business, and if I hear that any of you have been misusing what you learn here then I'll personally throw you in a cell myself." Suitably cowed the class concentrated on the middle of the room, well aware that they were being taught this as more than a simple way to pass their exams. This had real world applications.<p>

"Potter eventually you'll be able to do this subconsciously and you won't have to think about it at all. But for the moment, imagine an arrow or a crossbow bolt, or any weapon type projectile that comes to mind, this is called your Focus." Harry cast around for a moment before settling on a Muggle bullet. He had no experience firing a gun, but he was well aware of their destructive potential. He nodded tightly to Moody and the ex Auror continued.  
>"Right, concentrate on that image, I'm going to summon you a target, while concentrating on your focus I want you to hold your wand out in front of you and focus your magic into your wand then jab it forward aiming at the target. Remember, focus, magic, wand movement. Ready?"<p>

Harry nodded again and Moody summoned a clay disk hovering vertically in mid-air. Without delay Harry jabbed his wand forwards and the results were explosive. The disk shattered dramatically and shards flew everywhere. Behind the wards that Moody had raised just before hand the disk released a gong like sound as Harry's jab sorcel impacted on it. The room was totally quiet for a few seconds as they comprehended the destructive power of what Harry just released. Moody gave them a moment to let it sink in before he continued.  
>"That ladies and gentleman, is why this is dangerous. Potter's spell not only shattered the target, but had enough force to shake my ward on the other side of the room. I want you all to consider the damage that could do to someone if you fired it at their body and they couldn't block it in time. Additionally I want you to consider how quickly it happened. Potter made his move and less than a second later his spell landed. Sorcery moves extremely fast, although Potter's example is probably faster than most as his will power is considerable. Can anyone tell me what friction is?"<p>

Hermione again was able to provide the Muggle definition of friction and Moody awarded her his usual five point reward for a correct answer.  
>"Friction, like inertia can be talked about in magical terms. A crossbow bolt is designed to be light and small, with a sharp point for cutting through the air. It provides little room for air resistance, which is a type of friction. A brick on the other hand, is cumbersome and heavy; it provides a lot of surface for air to press against slowing its movement. In magic the principle is similar with spells and sorceries. A spell that is incorrectly focused will take much longer to work, as the magic is trying to press outwards and disperse and that slows it's mobility and consequentially, makes it less effective. A spell that is cast with a great deal of focus and willpower holding it together however will travel quickly and will retain most if not all of the power put into it when it strikes the target. This is especially useful in sorcery as, because of the nature of sorcery, sorcels loose power over distance because they must constantly use power to maintain their velocity. Spells do not have a concept of slowing down, they retain the same velocity across their entire flight, but the strength of their effect worsens regardless as they lose energy trying to maintain that velocity. Over a certain distance sorceries will simply peter out and vanish as they lose all of their ability to hold their shape together. A sorcery cast with a strong intent and will is very useful as it will have a much greater range. You notice that even after piercing through the clay disk Potter's sorcel still had the power to hit the wards with considerable force. That shows a great deal of focus. Well done Potter."<p>

Hermione saw Harry duck his head at the praise and subsequent applause through the room. She knew he was blushing but she couldn't help but applaud him too, it was apt praise and he deserved it. When Moody continued Hermione grinned, this would be interesting.  
>"Now that we have that out of the way Potter I've got something more for you to try, seeing as we have you up here we might as well put you through your paces. I'm going to go stand over by the side there and I'm going to rapidly summon and launch the clay disks across the room, I want you to hit as many of them as you can. Harry's tight nod was precluded by him closing his eyes, focusing tightly. Hermione knew how single minded he could become on a task and wondered how quickly he could snap his shots off.<p>

Moody stumped over to the side of the room and growled out, "Ready Potter?"

Harry opened his eyes and they were flinty with determination. He nodded, and instantly Moody was conjuring and banishing disks across the room. Hermione watched in fascination as Harry's wand came up in a blur and he began jabbing his wand. The sound of shattering clay filled the air as disk after disk was annihilated by his tight, accurate casting. She had no idea how he could be that fast and not miss anything! From where she was sitting she could see his eyes darting behind his glasses, identifying targets and obliterating them without pause. It was actually kind of sexy. Harry's body sunk into a half crouch and his arm was out ahead of him with the tell-tale ripple of his powerful sorcels cutting through the air with each jab for the barest hint of moment before they impacted on their targets.

The ward at the back of the room began to shudder and vibrate as Harry's overpowered sorcels smashed into it; rippling bell like peals sounding with each violent stab of Harry's wand. Not even a minute later and the disks stopped flying. Only two had gotten through Harry's net of spells, one because Moody had aimed it so well that it almost spun along the floor and harry didn't spot it until the last moment where he ended up ignoring it in favour of more mobile targets. Hermione was shocked at the sight of Harry's wand tip shimmering with the excess energy being poured out of it.

Moody stumped over to potter and clapped him on the back, shaking his hand he said, "And that's an example of an excellent sorcerer. Barely has the sorcel in his mind; first try, and instantly proficient. Good job Potter. I hope to see great things from you. Tell me, did you need to concentrate on each individual sorcel? Did you need to bring your focus to the forefront of your mind each time or has it already become subconscious?"

Hermione was curious to Harry's answer, this would reveal much about the way his thoughts worked and she was always curious to get inside his head.  
>"I didn't need to concentrate on each individual sorcel, not in the way that I had to go through the process each time, I did need to adjust my aim of course and make the wand movement again, but it became second nature very quickly. I did need to keep my focus in the forefront of my mind but it wasn't hard to do, effortless really."<p>

Hermione grinned, that was her Harry, taking something that was difficult to master and making it look easy. He was just a natural when it came to such things and she loved that about him. The class broke up into a simple firing range at that point Moody creating a line of targets for the class to practice firing their jab sorcels at. Harry and Moody both moved among the students helping them out. It was a small class, only six fourth year Gryffindors, one of whom was Harry. And the class quickly mastered the sorcery, even if none were as accurate as Harry.

Hermione was surprised to find that Lavender was the most accurate after Harry and herself, personally she would have expected Seamus. Moody gave them a few minutes to handle the spell before glancing at his watch.

"Alright you lot, we still have half the class left. You're quick learners and there aren't that many of you, so I think we have time to get you learning the other major type of offensive sorcel." Taking his position in front of one of the dummies he began to explain.  
>"This has a very similar principle to the jab sorcel, in that it requires the focus, the magic and the wand movement, but in this case the focus and the wand movement are different. Your focus this time will be some kind of bladed instrument, a sword, an axe, anything really, as long as it's sharp. The wand movement is a flick of your wand in any direction, for instance;"<p>

Without further ado Moody summoned a tablet of soft clay and suspended it in mid-air, then flicked his wand. There is a sensation of rushing air for an instant then a deep gash appeared in the tablet in the direction of his flick. Quickly he flicked his wand several times sketching a rough facsimile of a sword into the tablet with deep gashes. Stepping back to admire his handiwork he grinned and explained.  
>"The cutting sorcel will do just that, cut anything thing in front of you in the direction you indicate with your wand. Notice that the cuts are the same length as the flicks, if I exaggerate the motion I can get longer cuts, at the cost of casting speed. Notice too that this sorcel has much less penetrating power than the jab." He jabbed his wand at the tablet and a large hole was punched through the middle of not only the soft clay, but the wooden back board behind it and the familiar gong sound reverberated on the ward at the back of the room.<p>

"The jab is used primarily to break shields; it has a great deal of force behind it and can be used to punch through even a thick plate of metal with enough force. It's a horrific way to kill someone but its best used as a method of punching through magical and physical shields as it has a lot of power in a small area and can easily overwhelm a weak sorcerer or spell caster. The standard Protego shield spell is no match for even a weak jab. Where the cutting sorcel is much better suited for dealing with soft targets, people, and animals as it can happily gouge through skin and muscle, and with enough force, bone. However it does it in a very damaging way that is difficult to heal, so even if your target escapes they can still be killed simply from the trauma. A note, this spell can be cast in a slightly different way. Instead of imagining a bladed weapon imagine a blunt one, such as a staff or club; it will create a bludgeoning effect." He looks around the room sternly. "Remember, these spells are not toys, they are weapons and should be treated with the proper respect. Go ahead and practice."

The rest of the lesson was quickly absorbed with target practice and in the last few minutes as everyone was packing up Moody growled over the hubbub. "Homework! Eight inches on tactical applications of the jab and cut sorcels and an additional eight inches on the legal ramifications of using these sorceries both in self-defence and unprovoked, due in on our last lesson before Halloween."  
>Hermione smiled seeing Harry jot down the homework and as he stood she wrapped him in a tight hug and kissed his cheek, "You were magnificent out there love."<br>Harry blushed heartily and mumbled under his breath about it being nothing. Hermione smiled warmly at him before saying, "I know you don't think you're anything special but I know otherwise and that's enough for me. Being humble just increases your allure."

-:-

The week passed quickly, and the impending arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students was on everyone's mind, everyone except Harry. Hermione wasn't sure how he was planning on achieving it, but he had taken an extra credit assignment from Moody to develop a new weaponized sorcel. The basic jab and cut sorcels were good, but Moody was sure that Harry could come up with something new, a signature move so to speak. Moody had his own, a lashing motion that instead of cutting or bludgeoning, or even piercing, seemed to simply part whatever it hit. It was terrifyingly efficient and he refused to tell the class what his focus was. Moody encouraged Harry to experiment with different focuses and wand movements to develop a new sorcel for his own use.

Hermione had her own problems to deal with, ancient runes was rapidly becoming a headache of monumental proportions and she had no idea how she was going to handle the assignments that were coming in. Transplant translations from ancient texts overlaid with different dialects of the same alphabet were quickly becoming her personal hell. The tablets could be translated in different ways depending on which dialogue of the language was used and finding the correct translation would reveal a cipher for the next tablet. She had fully translated the entire set twice with different results and she had no idea which was correct.

On the twenty ninth of October Harry and Hermione were to be found on the grounds of Hogwarts. Hermione was delving into her notes of translations and Harry waving his wand in short violent bursts of movement against the trunk of another tree. He had asked Professor Sprout to pick a tree and spell it with every enchantment she knew to give it the resilience for continued battery and assault as he worked on his task. None too happy about it but willing to do so to prevent the wholesale slaughter of the forest she complied.

Harry had immediately began experimenting and Hermione was fascinated with his results. Not content to simply make one new sorcel Harry was intent on making a range of attacks that only he knew about. He would submit his best one for marking but the combinations of them were what really seemed to excite him. He was currently a riot of movement and chips of wood were flying from the tree only for it to heal itself. Some would occasionally rattle off the ward Hermione had put up to prevent splinters getting into her notes or her hair. They had a brief argument the first time they had come out to do their mutual study about how to deal with the problem. Eventually Harry helped Hermione craft the ward that she now put up each day.

She remembered with great clarity the lesson they had that day in DADA and why it reminded her again that Harry was incredibly scary when he got into his 'battle mode'."

-:-

Hermione was watching her boyfriend with a slight amount of trepidation. Moody had decided that afternoon that they were going to be doing live duelling practice using everything they had learned so far. The previous lesson had been an eye opener for Hermione in that the jab and cut sorcels weren't meant to be used individually, but rather chained together in complex patterns of wand movement to create a web of deadly spells. Today with the sorcel chaining practise under their belts they would engage in open combat, one on one battle simulations in a tournament style. Harry was immediately picked as top seed, and Hermione, to her great surprise, was second.

Meaning that unless either of them was beaten earlier in the round robin they would be facing off for the title as best duellist in their year group, and the top two would train together to go against the two man teams from the other houses in their year group and the singles tournament that would be held at the end of the year as an open competition.

Seeing as there were only six of them Harry and Hermione were both given a free shot to the semi-finals and the lower seeds had to duel to get the chance to go against them. Hermione was initially worried about the damage they could cause each other, but Moody had simulation wands for all of them that they would be using for the rest of the year. They were based on their actual wands, with the same woods lengths and cores from the same type of animal. But they had inhibitor runes carved all the way down the length so that they would change the nature of sorceries cast through them to be of a non-lethal variety. They were however still quite capable of inflicting bruises and breaking bones, and Madam Pomfrey was on hand to mend any injuries between and after bouts.

Lavender went up against Neville first and to no one's great shock soundly trounced the inept boy. She would be moving on to the semis. The battle between Seamus and Parvarti lasted much longer and Seamus only just held on for the win. That said he wasn't exactly eager to go up against Harry in the next round.

Hermione was incredibly nervous as she waited in the combat arena that Moody had constructed. It was a large circle with four small pieces of cover in a symmetrical pattern, a pillar and a low wall on each side of the arena.

Moody stepped between the two girls and explained the rules as he had for the previous two bouts.  
>"Right you two, sorcery only, no spell casting of any kind including transfiguration defensive and offensive hexes and curses, charms or any other practical applications you could find from your wanded tuition. You may however use any sorcery that you know. The winner is the last woman standing. Please try to avoid headshots, ready? Three, two, one, fight!"<p>

Hermione sprang into action and rolled to the side flicking off a pair of jabs into the space where Lavender had just been while avoiding a rapid string of cutters from the other girl. Lavender was faster and far more accurate than Hermione, but Hermione was more creative and had a massive store of power behind her that let her overwhelm the younger girl if it came down to endurance or a battle of wills. She was also remarkably good at parrying sorceries when she could see her opponent casting.

The low wall Hermione was hiding behind started to crumble as dozens of jabs started rattling over its surface. Fortunately for Hermione Lavender hadn't mastered how to force her magic into the sorcery to create more powerful attacks or Hermione would have been a mass of bruises. Deciding to take action the brunette witch rolled to the side and with her duelling shield before her to catch Lavender's assault she fired off a string of cutters and jabs that Lavender, confident in her ability to aim around Hermione's shield, failed to dodge and caught them all on her own shield. The hideous buzzing sound that came from the impacts preceded a horrific slap of sound that momentarily deafened Hermione as Lavender's shield failed and the young woman's body was pummelled by nearly a dozen sorcels that Hermione had fired.

The fight wasn't over though as Lavender was tough and managed to fight through the pain to roll back behind her own cover. Hermione was cautious, her dorm mate was vicious when backed into a corner and she didn't want to be met with a hail of Lavender's sorcels as she rounded the corner. Instead Hermione utilized a tactic she had seen Harry practising and with a back handed upward sweep of her wand and an imagined sledgehammer she aimed at the low wall that Lavender was surely crouched behind.

An almighty crash sounded around the room as the low wall was obliterated by the force of Hermione's sorcery and Lavender pitched sideways flinging sorcels as she darted for the only other cover available to her. Hermione cursed and did her best to catch the rapid bolts of magic on her duellist's shield but several landed low and Hermione went pale as she felt her knee buckle backwards. Falling to the ground she desperately shielded as Lavender approached flinging sorcels at her downed opponent. Fortunately for Hermione the size of her shield was enough to completely cover her prone form and when Lavender exhausted her short term energy Hermione struck back, lowering her shield and pummelling the younger witch with a hail of jabs, not even bothering to go for subtlety she simply kept casting until Lavender was unconscious on the mat.

Almost immediately she felt Madam Pomfrey at her side and with a tutting sound the medi-witch relocated Hermione's kneecap and healed the tissues around the injury. Then the woman scurried over to Lavender to revive and heal the downed witch. Hermione sank backwards to the mat for a moment before standing to her feet as Moody announced the winner to general applause and Harry's rapid hug and kiss.  
>"Well done Love."<br>Hermione beamed at him and thanked him quietly before retreating to the side of the arena where she could watch Harry's match against Seamus. Moody repaired both sets of cover but before he could begin saying the rules Seamus piped up nervously  
>"I don't suppose I could surrender now could I?"<p>

Moody growled at him and Seamus nodded, stiffening his spine and going to his side of the mat. Harry nodded to him apologetically, but with determination on his face. Moody said the rules, and then it began.

Hermione would never quite remember how Harry opened the fight, what motions he made with his wand. But a ring of small explosions rippled around him, and threw Seamus from his feet before he could even bring up a shield. He wasn't idle in flight however and managed to string several sorcels together mid-flight, that while not well aimed did the job of forcing the ever cautious Harry to dodge out of the way. Hermione watched as he spun to the side elegantly out of the way of Seamus's attack before moving his wand in a tight arc to the right in a violent fashion. Seamus seemed to have a sixth sense of what was coming and hastily threw up his hand to block Harry's attack which buzzed angrily against his shield. But that left him open and Harry capitalized without hesitation, sending a wave of jabs at Seamus before the older boy could react. The Irish wizard managed to stay standing barely but his nose was bloodied and Hermione could tell he was nursing a broken wrist. Harry didn't pull his punches and if it had been a true fight he would have died right then with a hole in his head.

Harry wasn't uncontested however as Seamus put up a last ditch effort sending a hail of assorted sorcels at Harry in a wide spread that forced the raven haired young man to actually block most of the attacks. Harry was quick however and caught the sorcels on his duellist's shield without issue before retaliating. He made the same upward sweep that Hermione had, but Seamus had noted the attack from Hermione's duel and dodged sideways and into cover as the ground beneath him erupted in a shockwave. Looping his arm around his head and bringing it sideways Harry continued the motion of his sorcel and the same sledgehammer effect that had decimated the low wall earlier did so again, blasting through the cover like so much firewood. Seamus was ready for him though and hastily sent a wave of cutter's at various levels and latitudes. He was surprised however when Harry swept his left hand down and the cutters struck a broadband shield that Harry had erected. It had been brought up in haste however and wasn't strong enough to stop all of the cutters, one of which finally broke through, the shield cracking mightily under the strain and Harry was blasted off his feet.

Seamus tried desperately to capitalize on the unexpected advantage, but was thwarted as Harry flicked his wand at the ground mid-flight, propelling himself higher in the air and above Seamus' attacks. Harry landed in a crouch already casting and Seamus frantically dodged to the side and fired his own salvo that Harry carelessly blocked. Then Hermione saw him grin and her heart stopped in her chest. The look of certain victory on Harry's face was one that she would never forget; it was confident and assured, but not cocky. It was a look filled with certainty and a second later she knew why.

Seamus seemed to see Harry grin as well because a loud curse came from him a moment before Harry acted. He seemed to have taken the kid gloves off with that grin. Seamus was assaulted by a wave of attacks that battered his already pained frame backwards over and over until he collapsed to the floor. Harry's sorcery had been terrifyingly fast, cutters and jabs flew from him like a hail of arrows destined for one single target. Seamus' shield faltered immediately and he was not only blasted off his feet, but battered in mid-air as well. When he landed, he did not rise. Poppy immediately rushed to the downed boy with an annoyed look at Harry who had the good grace to look abashed. The roar of applause was loud from the five who were watching even Moody was clapping his gnarled hands together as he approached.

At that moment Hermione wondered how exactly she was supposed to beat her boyfriend in the next bout.

-:-

Harry was nervous. He was happy with his win, and that meant that no matter what he and Hermione would be fighting together against the other house doubles teams. It was a heady feeling. But now he had to fight his girlfriend. He wasn't exactly scared of losing. In his less than modest moments he admitted that he was a prodigy when it came to duelling, but this was his girlfriend. He was honestly more afraid of winning. When Hermione rushed forwards and wrapped him into a hug Harry hugged her back, happy that they could share this. He felt her pull back slightly with a fierce expression on her face.  
>"I swear Harry Potter if you go easy on me I'll never sleep in your bed again."<p>

Harry gulped slightly; at least he had his marching orders. Nodding tightly the pair of them took places at either end of the mat as Moody repaired the low wall that had suffered constant abuse. He looked at the two and repeated the usual rules. He counted down, then it was on.

While Moody was counting Harry felt the nervousness slip away from him; his battle mood swept over his mind and he was the cold and calculating young man who was analysing Hermione's strategies. For once he was the one with the greater knowledge, Hermione couldn't draw on her vast repertoire of spells for this fight and Harry had already developed several new sorcels that had already proved effective. The look in Hermione's eyes was gratifying, she had the same level of determination that he knew burned in his own emerald irises. This wouldn't be a fight between lovers or friends. They both understood that this was a fight between two competitors, and both of them were determined to give their best showing.

Harry began moving immediately to the pillar on his side of the arena. Hermione, clearly startled at his motions had already begun casting her sledgehammer at the low wall on Harry's side which was momentarily obliterated. She was denying him cover, clever girl. Harry wasn't about to be denied however and when Hermione turned towards him he brought his hand up and then lashed down while pushing his hand out, a long cutter that neatly bisected the pillar in front of him, before both pieces were blasted towards his girlfriend. He heard her squeak of fright as the pieces of marble hurtled toward her and Harry spun on the spot, drawing his wand across his body in a horizontal sweep concentrating on the sledgehammer. The sorcel smashed into the pillar halves at the last second shattering them into a hail of shrapnel that filled the air with marble shards.

Harry was well aware that Hermione would roll to dodge the dangerous hail and fired a string of jabs at the air to the right of the blast. He was caught out however when a lance of pain shot up his left side. Harry spun to the left catching several more sorcels on his shield. Apparently Hermione had anticipated his attack and had dodged the other way, unfortunately this had put her out of range of any cover and Harry realized that he had her pinned.

-:-

Hermione had dashed out of the way of the hail of shrapnel, momentarily surprised that Harry really wasn't holding back. She couldn't blame him and really she didn't want to, she knew that she could easily dodge the shards, but she made sure to dodge away from the point Harry's eyes were locked on, she was sure he would fill the area with sorcels. As soon as he started casting Hermione took the advantage of positioning to send a brace of jabs at him, wincing in the back of her mind when one connected. A strange thrill went through her at the feeling of first blood. Despite Harry's showmanship he hadn't actually hit her with anything yet.

He turned rapidly after the first impact however and she realized her mistake, the only remaining cover to her was nearly eight meters in the other direction, she was out in the open, and she gulped as she saw Harry's, now familiar, triumphant grin pass over his face. Desperately throwing up her shield in front of her she realized it was too late. Almost identically to what happened to Seamus she was knocked off her feet when her shield collapsed and she was tossed up into the air, her body wracked with impacts as Harry's annoyingly accurate sorcels jabbed all over her already aching muscles. Eventually one struck her in the head and she felt no more.

-:-

When one of his jabs hit Hermione in the head Harry swore and immediately ran forwards gesturing to her with his wand and a cushioning charm. She seemed to float to the ground, but thoroughly unconscious Poppy pushed him out of the way impatiently and revived Hermione and patched up her bruises. When she was done Harry helped her to her feet apologizing profusely. Hermione simply hugged him and kissed his cheek whispering.  
>"I still love you sweetheart, but you can make this up to me later with a massage."<br>Harry nodded eager to help her however he could, and only then did he realize Moody was beside him.

Looking at the ex Auror with trepidation he said, "So I guess I won?"  
>Moody chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder before raising his arm in the air.<br>"Potter wins!"

-:-

Hermione was broken out of her thoughts, the feeling of Harry bearing down on her, sorcels flying from his wand in an angry hail was an unpleasant one and she hoped she would never have the experience again. He would definitely have to teach her that explosive shield he used at the start of his first fight though that looked incredibly useful. Back under the tree however, with Harry experimenting with sorcels to her side she couldn't help but be thankful that he was as competent as he was. It made her truly believe that he could survive whatever was coming for him in the years ahead.

They still did other homework of course, usually at lunch time, but in the evenings they dedicated their time to their projects and spending quality time together. Eventually Harry came and slumped down next to her on the ground, sweating somewhat. Hermione looked up from her notes to see him grinning down at her, his sweat tousled hair and bright eyes made her heart flutter with happiness, this gorgeous creature was hers!

When he leaned down for a kiss she happily met him and they stayed locked together for a few moments before they broke apart, panting slightly.

His calloused hand cupped her cheek gently and his soft words made her grin and blush. "I love you Hermione, you look so beautiful sitting here with your notes all around you."  
>"Thank you Harry, you certainly looked quite manly up there beating away at that poor tree."<br>Laughing at his slightly pouty expression she let him help her pack up her things and head back inside to their common room.

It was getting dark and they needed to be inside for dinner and to sit next to the fire for their evening talks and time together. Even now, away from home they still managed to find the time to cut away the extraneous goings on to simply be with each other. Hermione had long since ceased to care about the fact that it was cutting into her study time, being with Harry was far more important and far more gratifying.

Dinner was always a quiet affair between them without Ron, and it was often the time that they missed him most. He had been a voracious eater, and they both missed the laughter they could share watching him inhale his food. Not to mention the half mumbled jokes and disparaging remarks about various greasy bats and slimy gits.

Returning to the common room was more of a private affair for them and they took their accustomed seats by the fire chatting away to each other. Rarely ever were they this talkative, preferring to spend time simply with each other, no words needed. But in front of the fire they let everything out, chatting and gossiping like the teenage friends they still were. Fred and George often came to sit with them, Lee sometimes tagging along but not always. And in those times they would reminisce about Ron and friendships lost.

That night however there was only one topic of discussion between them, and it was caused by Hedwig flying in through the open window.

-:-

Harry was sitting on their favourite armchair with Hermione curled up in his lap, the two of them exchanging quiet but rapid conversation between kisses, short laughs, and some flirtatious teasing. They were interrupted by a tapping on the glass to the outside world; Harry went over to it to open up the window to admit Hedwig, who was carrying a letter sealed inside a Muggle envelope. Harry opened the letter and read it quietly to Hermione. 

_Dearest Harry and Hermione,_

_We've been collecting the information we need to adopt Harry in the last month and we're happy to say that we have some good news! The police arrested Vernon and Petunia Dursley on child neglect charges, and both were sentenced to fifteen years in prison. We can't stress enough how happy we are for Harry that this is finally behind him. Harry and Dudley were immediately put up for adoption and foster homes are being arranged. Fortunately we were on hand to adopt Harry immediately, all that needs is a signature from Harry and you will be our son! _

_We hope that we hear back from you two soon, Dan is looking forward to seeing you both for Christmas and having our first, together as a family._

_How's school going you two? Staying out of trouble? We love you both very much and miss you dearly. _

_Speaking of which, Harry dear I know we didn't get around to saying it while you were with us over the break, but we love you. Truly, Dan and I have been talking a lot about how we want you to be a part of our family and we'd both be honoured if you would consider taking our last name as an add on to your own, or even as an extra middle name. We want you to have a permanent reminder that no matter what happens we will always love you. And Hermione, do make sure you look after him? Heaven forbid anything happen to him before we see the pair of you for the holidays. _

_Hope to hear from you both soon, _

_Love always  
>Mum and Dad<em>

_P.S, that bird of yours is extremely smart you know that? She turned up just as I finished writing this.  
>P.P.S. The associated documents are in the envelope you just need to sign where it says so, and we'll be family properly.<br>_

Harry sat back stunned in his seat and felt Hermione's arms wrap tightly around him. His eyes were prickling with unshed tears and he clutched Hermione close to him. It was almost too much, the adoption, the love from Emma and Dan, the offer to be his family forever and for him to take on the Granger name if he wanted. He didn't quite know how to react, the two of them stayed like that for several minutes, not saying anything just holding each other and reflecting in the incredible love they both had from their parents. Eventually Hermione reached over and pried the other documents from the rather full envelope. Harry looked the over and with a shaking hand began signing his name on the various dotted lines. When he was done Hermione gave him a big hug and whispered quietly into his ear in a cheeky tone.  
>"So brother, what do you want to do now?"<p>

Harry groaned at the terrible joke and ran his hands up Hermione's sides tickling her lightly as she squirmed in his lap demanding a truce. Eventually he let up and they cuddled back together Hermione kissing Harry's jaw lightly as he held her. It was lovely. Harry eventually started writing a reply to his new parents and with Hermione's input he managed a fairly lengthy letter. When he got close to the end he looked at Hermione a little nervously.  
>"Sweetheart, do you mind if…" His words petered off and he looked a little stricken, incredibly nervous he tried again, but stammered to a halt. He felt Hermione's hand on his cheek and he looked into her eyes.<br>"You can tell me Harry."

He took a deep breath and gently asked, "Do you mind if I keep my name? I just… It's all I've got left of mum and dad."  
>Harry saw tears welling in Hermione's eyes and worried he'd gone horribly wrong until she threw herself into his arms telling him that of course she didn't mind. They held each other long into the night and when Hedwig eventually winged away with the letter tied to her leg Harry felt like he couldn't be happier. He had a family.<p>

-:-

The next day, Hallows Eve, was something of an excitement for the whole castle. The delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving in the early evening and everyone was eager to see them. The castle was a fairly isolated place and the students rarely got to see anyone who was outside the small community that was Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. So the arrival of nearly a hundred extra students and the two heads of school were an incredible novelty and treat. Professor Flitwick gave up trying to control his double charms class before lunch; everyone was too excited to settle down. But Professor Snape's class after lunch was ruled with an iron fist, fortunately the class ended early that day and after bringing their bags to their dorms the students streamed onto the entrance fields waiting for the other schools to arrive.

-:-

Hermione was leaning back into Harry, his arms around her waist, in the middle of the crowd as they waited. They didn't talk but did occasionally share the odd kiss or endearing look. It was rather dark and cold when Dumbledore's voice floated over the heads of the crowd  
>"I do believe that the Beauxbatons delegation approaches."<br>The crowd looked around wildly for a moment before a second year shrieked about something flying and fainted; everyone looked up at the sky to see a massive carriage moving towards the castle, pulled by what looked like titanic Pegasai. In short order it alighted on the grass and out of the carriage walked a tall proud woman who was surrounded by what looked like young children, but as she approached Hermione realized that the 'children' were older than she was, the woman was simply enormous. Albus moved to greet her and after a while they moved inside, then it was back to waiting.

Hermione was a little disappointed, yes the carriage was impressive, but at the end of the day it was very anticlimactic. They had landed, they had disembarked, and they had gone inside to warm up. She hoped the Durmstrang students had a slightly more exciting arrival; it would at least make up for standing in the cold for so long. She didn't have long to wait for a titanic sucking sound that seemed to come from the black lake; then with a plunging sound the gigantic Man o' War style battleship burst from the frigid waters. Eerie green light was coming from its sails and rigging. The line of students looked far more imposing than the slight and effeminate Beauxbatons students (Hermione supposed most of them were girls). By contrast the Durmstrang students were veritable masses of muscle and seemed to bleed intimidation into the air as they walked. A tall thin man led their ranks followed by a muscular but no less tall figure who was wearing somewhat rugged furs over his robes. As they approached Hermione realized that the second man was wearing a bearskin as a cloak and that gave the rugged appearance. Albus met with the two men while the students behind them stood patiently, one boy in particular stood out with a sallow complexion and slightly hooked nose. He was ungraceful on his feet and seemed to move with a somewhat lumbering gait.

Harry's slight gasp from beside her alerted her to the fact he had recognized the boy too. "No way is that Viktor Krum."  
>Hermione nodded slightly, "Yeah Harry, I think it is. Did you know he was still in school?"<br>Harry shook his head, the motion brushing his chin across the top of her head. "No idea at all."

The Durmstrang students headed indoors and the Hogwarts crowd decided enough was enough and followed them in. Sitting at the Gryffindor table Harry and Hermione patiently waited for Dumbledore to begin. So far Hermione had been only slightly impressed and Harry seemed to share her opinion. They felt like the little people while the heads of the schools were orchestrating some grand play. Eventually Dumbledore's speech began welcoming the delegates to the school and introducing the Goblet of fire. The age line sent murmurs through the crowd of hopeful attempts to get underage names into the goblet and Harry and Hermione went to bed feeling slightly ripped off by the whole affair. Much was said but it meant little to the two of them, and they suspected the seventh years understood more. Even Hermione was frustrated beyond belief by the lack of useful information given. During dinner however Hermione had reappraised the Beauxbatons students much to Harry's bemusement.

-:-

Harry was slowly eating his way through his roast beef and potatoes while Hermione sat next to him, occasionally spearing a piece of meat from his plate while they talked, Harry stealing bits of vegetable from hers. Their effortless conversation was interrupted however when an airy almost breathless voice punctuated their thoughts.  
>"May I have the Bouillabaisse?"<br>Harry looked up to see a remarkably attractive young woman leaning over the table between Fred and George who were both ogling her with slack jawed expressions as her considerable bust was planted squarely between their faces. Harry glanced around for the dish and handed it to her without a second thought, but when she left Hermione slapped both Fred and George around the head.  
>"Perverts"<p>

The twins looked wounded, but were apologetic as Hermione sat back Harry glanced at her, "Was that necessary?"  
>Hermione looked at him as if he'd grown a third eye. "Did you see what they were doing?"<br>Harry raised an eyebrow, he honestly hadn't and wasn't sure what she was talking about.  
>"No?"<br>Hermione huffed and gestured to her own chest; Harry jumped to the wrong conclusion and bristled at the pair of them before Hermione pulled him back.  
>"No silly not mine, that girl had the most… ridiculous pair of breasts I've ever seen."<p>

Harry chuckled and glanced up at the girl who had her back to them  
>"Sorry love I honestly didn't notice."<br>Hermione goggled her eyes at him before sitting back slightly confused, even Fred and George looked a little dumbfounded, Harry looked left and right at the boys on the table and many of them still had misty eyes locked on the girl's back. When she turned around to talk to someone sitting beside her Harry got a glimpse of her chest. Immediately recoiling with the sight he turned to Hermione who looked amused.  
>"Wouldn't those be painful to… force into those robes they wear?"<br>Hermione laughed and hugged him tightly. "Only you Harry."

-:-

Hermione was both annoyed and confused, the girl had clearly been flashing Harry with the way she had been leaning over the table but he didn't even notice, she was bristling at the idea of anyone trying to 'catch' Harry, he was hers damnit. But at the same time she didn't quite know how to deal with the fact that he clearly wasn't interested in her. She was happy about it of course. But confused, did he not like large breasts? Was he a hot blooded male after all? She didn't quite know what to do with the information. Now that they had taken their mufflers off the Beauxbatons students all looked fairly attractive, and Hermione wondered if that was just a French thing.

The Durmstrang students were, on the other hand, slabs of meat. Quite literally muscled idiots the most of them from what she could see. Well, perhaps 'idiots' was being a bit cruel but many of them were eating in a rather savage manner. They were wearing robes of deep crimson as opposed to the Hogwarts black and the Beauxbatons powder blue. The differences in culture were plain to see. Durmstrang valued brute strength and intimidation whereas Beauxbatons seemed to favour charm and elegance. Hermione snorted under her breath and quietly thought that Hogwarts simply championed proficiency and didn't need any of that woolly nonsense to win.

Harry seemed to agree as he talked to her in an undertone about the fact that he was certain Hogwarts would get a victory, if only because he was sure that Hogwarts students would rely on their ingenuity more than any other 'assets'. Hermione couldn't help but agree with her boyfriend and softly kissed him as a reminder of her thanks for his loyalty and love for her.

-:- Smut Starts Here -:-

Harry felt Hermione slip through the hangings, and shrug off the cloak as she curled up into his side. He spoke softly to her happy that she was with him again. "Hello gorgeous, did you get here okay?"  
>Hermione's answering growl and snuggle combo was adorable, and he nearly laughed at the petulant tone of her voice.<br>"No trouble, just cuddle me damn you." With a sly grin he flicked his wand at the hangings, silencing them and then slid out from under Hermione and manoeuvred to straddle her thighs. Her soft groan of protest is soon replaced by little noises of happiness as he began to move his hands over her back massaging her tired muscles.

He'd done this for her before and knew where her worst places were and how to get the knots out. The pair of them stayed like that for a time, his hands kneading out her sore spots and her graciously accepting the loving treatment. He felt his mouth go dry when he remembered that Hermione didn't wear a bra to bed. He was happy with the way their relationship was progressing, but he knew they both wanted a bit more. So he decided to be the Gryffindor he was.

He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, "Your shirt's in the way."  
>He could hear her breath hitch in her throat at the suggestion and he grinned knowing she was well aware of why he had said that. Deciding to make this easier for her by tugging off his shirt; he knew she loved what Quidditch had done to him, and it was with an excited wiggle that she turned under him, all pretences of the massage gone to tug off her shirt.<p>

Harry's own breath hitched when Hermione held her arms across her chest, and then shyly opened them letting him see her. He could see even through the darkness that she wasn't the biggest of girls, but that didn't bother him. She had occasionally brought his hands there in some of their more heated kisses, and he had long decided that he loved her size. He lowered himself to her, and realizing that she was probably extremely nervous, kissed her, murmuring to her between kisses.  
>"You're beautiful sweetheart, absolutely beautiful. I love you."<br>Her kisses became abruptly more passionate and he was totally fine with being swept up in her sudden ardour. In between these heated lip locks he heard her soft moans as her breasts pillowed against his chest.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands. Did she want him to touch her? Did she just want him to hold her? In the end he settled on a compromise, and slid one arm around her lower back holding their abdomens together while his other hand began to gently explore her chest. Her whimpers of delight as his fingers trailed over her skin were something of a turn on for Harry, and he felt himself rapidly harden between them. She didn't seem to mind though as her legs wrapped around his hips and she ground into him, making them both moan into each other's mouths. He took his time exploring her chest; gently caressing her soft, velvety skin and the already hard nipple atop each breast. Little cute sounds of delight were coming from her whenever his fingers brushed her nipples, and eventually he got the message. He started brushing the pad of his thumb against them in a repeated fashion, before taking one between his thumb and forefinger and lightly pinching.

The result was immediate as her hands flew to his hair pulling him down for an impassioned kiss. Her back arched, thrusting her chest into his hands; filling his palm with her breast. He groaned at the sensation of her soft body pressing against his. Working on instinct he gently broke the kiss, and arched his back to take her nipple into his mouth suckling on it softly with his tongue and lips. Hermione was like putty in his hands as her body seemed to melt. Moans of encouragement falling from her lips as her hands, still tangled in his hair, pulled him closer to her chest, demanding more of the same.

She wasn't overly vocal but that didn't worry the raven haired teen attached to her nipple, he just loved being able to give her this pleasure. It helped that he wasn't exactly hating the sensation of her body on his either. Pulling off her nipple with a soft 'pop' he moved across to her other breast and laved his tongue against it, softly licking in broad flat strokes and then lighter licks across her nipple.

For the first time in several minutes he heard her soft voice.  
>"Please, please Harry, don't stop."<p>

Taking her advice to heart he moved his hand to palm her other breast, holding it loosely and rolling it in his hand. She moaned loudly and he was suddenly glad that he had silenced the hangings. They stayed locked together like that for a few more moments, but Harry pulled back from her eventually and rose above her to look down on his love. She was undone, utterly surrendered to him; her hands had released his hair at some point, and were now lying limply on the bed either side of her head. The sheets where scrunched up where she had clearly been gripping the bed. Her chest was heaving and her mouth was slightly parted, red and puffy from their earlier kissing. But her eyes told him the most. They were an erotic mix of begging and lust. Heavy lidded, but with a demanding air that made his length twitch between her legs.

Moving back down to her he began kissing along her stomach, and down to her waistline. He didn't need her to tell him what to do next, much like they didn't need to talk most of the time when they were… well more clothed. He wanted to make her come tonight, and she wanted him to be below her beltline. Her legs unlocked around him as he moved lower and he watched her prop herself up on her elbows to watch him as he trailed kisses ever lower. He was surprised at himself, he would never have thought before tonight that he knew anything about how to pleasure Hermione, but something had risen within him, an instinct to do right by her and make this special. It didn't help that she was very easy to read and he could tell when he was doing something she liked.

Eventually his kisses touched against her knickers. She gasped slightly at the sensation as he pressed kisses to her covered folds. With a gentle urging from him she lifted her hips from the bed, her eyes still locked on his as he pulled her underwear down, and over her feet before tossing them to the foot of the mattress. He was slightly surprised when she didn't give him a chance to look down, but instead grabbed his shoulder and pulled her back to him. He could see the nervousness in her eyes and his heart went out to her. She was scared he'd find her ugly or unattractive and that broke his heart a little. Deliberately he kissed her lips then her jaw, ignoring the worried whimpers as he began to move lower. His lips ghosted over her neck, and then her chest passing over her breasts to move even lower. Soon he was pressing small kisses through the curls above her centre, and he knew she was getting more and more nervous as he went. Her eyes were pleading with him, for what he wasn't totally sure, but he knew how to make her understand how beautiful she was to him.

Deliberately then, he moved back and took in her fully naked form. She squirmed slightly, and her legs started to cross trying to hide from him. Gently he stilled her with his hands, and opened his mouth to speak; she was amazing, and he wanted to tell her, but his breath caught in his throat at the look of vulnerability on her face. He gathered his wits and spoke softly to her, softly but urgently, trying to convey the depth of his emotion and admiration for her.  
>"You are beautiful Hermione, absolutely gorgeous. I wouldn't change a thing about you." He saw the question in her eyes and nodded slowly, gently urging her with his hands to spread her legs for him. There was a look of shy trepidation on her face mixed with uncertainty. He knew her well enough that it wasn't uncertainty about what they were doing; rather it was about how he would react.<p>

He trailed his eyes over her body boldly drinking in her beautiful body that she had surrendered to him in such a trusting way. Then his eyes locked to the apex of her thighs and his breath hitched in his throat. Her lower lips were glistening in the tiny amount of light, he had no way to describe them except beautiful. They took his breath away and he couldn't help, but move close. Running on instinct he softly licked her velvety skin. He heard her gasp and her hands shook the mattress as she gripped it; cute little whimpers coming from her as his tongue ghosted over her skin. Those lips parted for him easily and he felt them sliding along either side of his tongue as it pressed between them. He could taste her. It was slightly tart and there was a hint of sweat in there, but the slightly syrupy fluid tasted wonderful and he licked several times, gathering as much of her essence as he could on his tongue, eagerly lapping up everything he could reach.

Her little whimpers turned to moans as he tongue rose higher, her breath coming in short pants and his breath in an oscillating state of either hitched or heaving. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as her soft voice reached his ears again.  
>"Oh Merlin yes Harry, I love you, I love you, keep going sweetheart, don't stop!"<br>Encouraged with her breathless words he licked her more firmly, placing kisses on her skin between licks and moving higher and lower periodically. Soon he found her entrance and he eagerly explored her with his tongue, gently teasing and thrusting into her hot core.

Her moans became throaty, but he was surprised when she took her chin in one hand tugging him to look at her and said one word, "Watch."

He followed her other hand as it spread her folds in a practised manner and her middle finger brushed against a small nub of flesh. She groaned and Harry got the message, go here next. Nudging her hand out of the way he spread her folds with his own hand, and quickly identified the small nub before moving in and flicking it with his tongue experimentally. Her hips jerked beneath him, and her throaty moan told him this was the place to be as he moved his tongue across her nub eagerly, licking it in broad flat strokes and little flicks. Her hands tangled back in his hair and she started chanting the word 'yes' over and over in an undertone, her hips grinding against his mouth as he began to suck on her, drawing her little nub into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

Abruptly her cries of pleasure became quite loud, and he loved the words coming out of her mouth.  
>"Oh yes Harry! Don't you dare stop love I'm so close, yes, yes, yes, YES! Oh God I love you!"<br>Her hips thrust up into his face and his own hands slid around her to her ass, holding her close and licking her frantically as her slightly whining moans filled the air. Her hands pushed him away from her core after a while and she tugged him up. He got the message and crawled up her body and wrapped her in his arms. She snuggled against him and he could feel her heavy breathing against his chest.

Her throaty and slightly hoarse words came to him in the darkness. "Merlin Harry that was amazing. Where did you learn to do that?"  
>He shrugged slightly and whispered back, "I learned just now love, from you."<br>He could see her bright eyes in the low light and her final words before they fell asleep together were like a balm to his heart.  
>"Thank you with all of my heart, that was incredible. I love you, Harry."<p>

-:- Smut Ends -:-

She went to sleep that night confident that no matter what, none of those Beauxbatons bitches would steal him from her.

-:-

AN4: Hi guys! New chapter… yeah… that was quicker right?

AN5: So… JKR admitted that HHr should have been a thing… this makes me happy

AN6: Review Responses:  
>HarryHermione: Thanks :D<p>

Femalefarrier: Thanks! Glad it suits

Lisbeth Lou Who: Well shucks… now you made me blush, thank you, I do my best.

Starboy: Thanks! Here's another

JHarry: No potion or charm… unless you count the charms of a certain redhead.

Dante: o.o your reviews are so fun to read. I'm aware of my tense/perspective issues in writing, hopefully having a beta has fixed those issues. And ahhh yes, the Neville conundrum. It will be solved in time never fear. For better or worse it will be solved. As for silencing charms. They work on a certain 'thing' so they can silence the hangings, but they couldn't silence the entire room, not without a lot of work. As for why not while they sleep? Well… they're sleeping, they don't see it as necessary. And yeah, thanks! Always nice to have a fan lol.

Punkyhreadhead: I'm glad that you like it all and understand what's going on. And yeah, I'm enjoying the Emma/Dan/Harry/Hermione dynamic, it's been fun to write

Anotherboarduser: haha yes it will. Hopefully you can see from this chapter why they don't need them.

Vegasman: I don't know if powerful is the right word, I'm always a fan of harry having a slightly larger than average magical strength and intelligence, courtesy of his genius parents. But I don't think this is overly out of character for him. Thoughts?

Thanks again for reading and reviewing! This has been a constant joy to write with all of your support and I'll look forward to more as we progress!

LGreymark


	9. The Fourth Champion

AN: Disclaimer as per the first page, you guys know the drill

-:-

Chapter Eight: The Fourth Champion

Halloween morning dawned with a sense of elation for Harry Potter. It was long before the other boys awoke, they had no lessons as it was a Saturday and many wished to sleep in, and his naked girlfriend was curled up against his side. Her hands and arms were wrapped around his body as his were around her. He wasn't quite sure whether he had put his boxers back on after whatever had happened last night or if they had ever come off, but regardless he could remember what they did and it made him more than a little proud to say the least.

Trying not to move much Harry shifted to draw Hermione against his chest, her sleeping form complied willingly and she flattened out against him. Her hands sliding over his lower back and her cheek pressed over his heart. He stayed like that; revelling in the feel of her body so happily snuggled up against him. The top of her head peaked from just beneath his chin where he had it tucked against his collarbone while he looked down at her. She was beautiful, and had delightfully surrendered to him not only last night, but through the morning as well; unashamedly naked she had fallen asleep with him carelessly. Not bothering to cover her body, trusting in Harry to look after her, to protect her.

Eventually she stretched in his arms and her sleepy eyes cracked open to look at him. Even without his glasses he could see her eyes as they connected with his. When they did she moaned slightly in happiness as her lips pressed against his in a lazy kiss.

Her murmured words took him by surprise. "Thank you love."  
>He raised an eyebrow before replying, "What for sweetheart?"<br>She twisted in his arms with her breasts rubbing against his chest, making him blush, but he continued looking at her elated, at the fact that her eyes stayed locked on his.  
>"For that absolutely yummy orgasm you gave me last night."<p>

Harry turned beet red. His blush becoming full blown lighthouse immediately as a recollection of exactly what he had done, all the sordid details, came rushing back into his head. He refused to break their eye contact though, and was rewarded with another soft kiss as she snuggled back into his arms.  
>"What time is it Harry?"<p>

He honestly had no idea, it could have been lunchtime for all he knew. Sneakily he pushed a hand out of the bed hangings and groped around on the night stand for his battered wristwatch, eventually claiming his prize he snagged it back into the confines of the four poster and looked at it mischievously.  
>"It's only eight, we could sleep in a bit more if you like."<p>

Hermione seemed to actually consider it for a second before lightly shaking her head. "Sadly I should probably head back to my dorm. Is the cloak still there behind you?"  
>Harry nodded and retrieved her means to safely sneak back to her bed. Before he gave it back to her though he brought his hand to her cheek and pulled her into a long sensuous kiss that left them both breathless and more than a little aroused.<p>

His lips moved against hers as he spoke, "A little something to remember me by sweetheart. You need any help getting dressed?"

Hermione, looking a little dazed shook her head, "No I've got this."

Indeed it wasn't much work for her to shimmy her knickers back up her legs, and tug the loose night shirt over her head. Harry realized with a start that it was one of his. Raising his eyebrows at her he was rewarded with a coy look.  
>"I thought I'd get my smell all over it so you could use it as a nightshirt when I can't come to bed with you and you'd have my scent to keep you company."<p>

Harry's breath hitched as he comprehended just how thoughtful Hermione was being before his eyes narrowed. "That plan has so many holes in it that it can't be anything but a hasty lie."

Laughing under her breath Hermione kissed his cheek before responding, "Okay fine I just like how comfy it is, happy now?"

Harry chuckled as he helped her sit up ready to make the dash back to her dorm. "Absolutely, see you in the common room soon love?"  
>She kissed him once more before disappearing out of the bed, and he assumed, down the stairs, her parting words hanging in the air.<br>"Of course Harry, why ever would you not?"

Harry slumped back down onto his bed and had to fight with himself not to fall back asleep. Last night's shenanigans had managed to tire him out more than he was used to being in the mornings. He did feel delightfully loose and floppy though, as if all the tension had been purged from his body. Eventually he managed to convince himself to get up and prepare himself for the day. Shucking on a set of comfy trousers, and a jersey for under his robes he made his way downstairs wand in pocket and shoes on feet.

The common room was mostly empty at this time of the morning, but he was somewhat shocked to see Ginny already awake and waiting for him. Or at least he assumed she had to be waiting for him because her eyes lit up in recognition when he got down the stairs and she rushed to greet him. Throwing herself into his arms before he could react; his body reacting on instinct to catch her. He was a little shocked at her tone of voice, it was sultry and desirous. What was she playing at?  
>"Spend the day with me Harry? You know it's a Hogsmeade day till we have to be back later!"<p>

Harry tried to recoil from her, but she had backed him up against the wall. Her small chest uncomfortably pressing into his own and her lithe athletic body stretched out against him. It went over the line as she kissed his throat. Angrily he pushed back at her, but she dug her heels in and Harry couldn't reach far enough to slap her or get his wand out.  
>"Get off me Ginny. No I don't want to go to Hogsmeade with you."<p>

It was to no avail and to his horror he felt his muscles relaxing, his arms became slack and his legs threatened to wilt. But somehow Ginny held him up her hands moving under his robes and he wanted to recoil from the touch of her hands on his chest.

Her whispered words filled his ears and he felt the touch of true dread. "I'm going to take what's rightfully mine from you Harry, that mudblood bitch won't want you after we make love. I know you want me, just relax everything will be fine soon."  
>His salvation however was not far away.<p>

-:-

Hermione had spotted Ginny waiting downstairs in the common room as she went passed, but simply ignored her and carried on upstairs to her room. It took her a bit longer to get dressed as she wanted to duck into the attached bathroom before breakfast and freshen up a little from her activities with Harry the night before. She smiled happily at the memory, he had been so wonderfully sweet about the whole thing, making sure that she felt comfortable with everything they did. He truly was her love.

When she eventually headed downstairs, a happy grin on her face she felt it harshly wiped from her face. There across the room was the redheaded bitch herself, her hands all over Hermione's man. She could see Harry's look of revulsion on her face, and for a split second her heart broke, thinking he had seen her and was finally going to that pureblood skank. But then his eyes did see her and he broke out into a look of pleading relief.

Hermione never stopped walking and within a moment she was behind Ginny and without a word gripped the younger girl's shoulder and spun her around. Ginny's expression of triumph sent Hermione over the edge. All of the hatred she had for the young red head, all of the annoyance and revulsion over the pureblood's disdain for her rose to the surface like bile. Abruptly the girl's look of triumph turned to one of disdain, and then horror as Hermione's fist connected with her nose.

The brunette didn't stop there however as she grabbed Ginny by the throat of her robes and held her up as she punched her in the face twice more; Ginny desperately trying to protect herself in the face of Hermione's fury. Hermione saw Ginny slump to the ground insentient, she didn't want to stop. Her ire was up and she wanted to beat the red headed younger girl until she never even thought to look at Harry again.

Hermione's eyes tore away from Ginny and her heart broke. Harry was slumped against the wall, his mouth was hanging slackly open with no sound coming out and a look of desperation in his eyes. He was limp like a ragdoll and Hermione's eyes roved over his body. He had clearly collapsed when Ginny was no longer holding him up. Looking back at the unconscious girl on the floor Hermione flicked her wand, her lips forming the incantation for the binding curse and Ginny was bound tightly in ropes.

Turning back to her man Hermione leant down and kissed him softly, apologising under her breath for not getting there sooner. There was no doubt in her mind; Ginny had done this to him, the fact that he couldn't move his limbs or body seemed to indicate some kind of drug or potion; a terrifyingly fast acting one at that. Hermione tried to lift Harry up, but she couldn't do it; he was just too heavy. Anguished she screamed for help, tears beginning to run down her face as Harry began to choke on his drool, unable to swallow.

Hermione couldn't do anything, for all the spells she knew she had no way to clear his airways with magic, and she didn't know how to do it the Muggle way, not for fluids. Helpless she watched as Harry's body began to convulse. She heard thundering steps, and was pushed out of the way none too gently, with relief she saw Fred and George leaning over his body casting spells. Abruptly Harry's breath cleared and the look of panic in his eyes vanished as relief swept over him. The twins didn't stop knowing it could easily happen again and they quickly hoisted him up between them, heading for the portrait hole. Hermione following in their wake and the bound Ginny laying on the floor, forgotten.

-:-

Harry's eye fluttered open to angry, but hushed voices. He couldn't make them out through the layer of exhaustion that swept over him. Why was he so tired? Why could he still not move his body? Fortunately it seemed someone had done a spell to keep his airways open and he didn't choke again. He couldn't see anything. His glasses were clearly not on his face, and he couldn't make out the voices. Everything was just a blur. It was incredibly frustrating, he couldn't move his body to get his glasses. He couldn't tell who was talking, and he couldn't even speak up to get their attention. All he could do was lay there, trapped in his own body, hoping beyond hope that someone would look at him soon and notice he was awake.

It took a long time, and Harry was growing more and more aggravated with each passing moment. Here he was, awake and wanting to know what was going on but he was helpless. Finally a hand moved over his face brushing against his cheek. Only Hermione would touch him like that. Desperately he tried to catch her eye, after a moment he heard a gasp and his glasses were placed on his face a moment later. Finally he had what he sought. Hermione's face was visible again, and the look of relief and love on her face made his tense state of mind relax, she didn't hold anything against him.

He felt himself being propped up; it was strange, he could still feel all his extremities with no issues but he couldn't move at all. His limbs, breathing, mouth, all of it refused to respond to his commands, all he could do was move his eyes. His chest seemed to keep breathing of its own accord; it was a slow measured rhythm, like that of a sleeper. And if he had to guess he looked like someone asleep, except for his eyes, and the fact that he was conscious.

As his line of sight was extended, the blurry forms of Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody, and Snape, as well as Madam Pomfrey, they all seemed to be arguing but appeared to rein them in at Hermione's pointed cough. They turned and instantly Poppy Pomfrey was fussing over him, casting charms and taking notes.

Professor Dumbledore moved to the foot of his bed and gently asked, "Can you hear us Harry?"

Harry wanted desperately to nod or speak but he couldn't do anything, he was sure his frustration showed in his eyes though because Albus seemed to rethink.  
>"Can you blink your eyes?" Harry did so.<br>"Ok, in that case blink once for yes, twice for no okay?" Harry blinked.  
>"Can you move anything except your eyes?" Two blinks.<br>"Have you got control of any of your bodily functions except for your eyes?" After a quick inventory, two blinks.  
>"Did Ginevra Molly Weasley do this to you?" One blink.<br>"Did she give you anything to eat or drink?" Two blinks.  
>"Did she force anything down your mouth or use her wand to make a transfusion?" Two blinks.<br>"Did she touch your bare skin at all?" One blink.  
>"I'm going to say a list of locations, and give you time to answer for each." One blink.<br>"Chest, left shoulder, right shoulder, abdomen, left upper arm, right upper arm, left wrist.. right wrist…" Harry did his best to keep up while remembering exactly what that bitch had done, blinking once or twice as needed. He occasionally glanced to Hermione, her expression was flinty and her eyes were narrowed. Briefly he wondered what Hermione had done to Ginny, he had slumped the wrong way to see what had happened after that first punch. Eventually Dumbledore stopped rattling off body parts, and gave Madam Pomfrey a significant look.  
>"Did she touch you with her hands?" One blink.<br>"Any other part of her?" One blink.  
>"Her lips?" One blink.<br>"Anything else?" Two blinks.

Dumbledore's look became almost as flinty as Hermione's and Harry's heart clenched. That was a terrifying sight.  
>"Severus would you agree that this sounds land appears to be Gabbling's Draught?" Harry heard Snape's oily voice raise into audible levels.<br>"It would certainly appear that way, Minerva can you please bring the girl here?"

Harry wondered what precisely Gabbling's Draught was. The effects were obvious, but the purpose of the draught was a different matter entirely. He waited patiently for anyone to say something else.

Finally Madam Pomfrey spoke, "Albus there's nothing I can do for him right now other than let the effects wear off. There's been some trauma to his lungs and throat, probably from choking on his own fluids, and his magic is dangerously fragile right now. I wouldn't even want to cast a basic recovery charm on him till his core has stabilised."

Dumbledore seemed to look his years for a moment, haggard and old. "I'm terribly sorry Harry; it seems we cannot free you from this predicament yet. I imagine you wish to know how long you're going to be like this." One blink.  
>Dumbledore looked to Poppy and she grimaced before speaking, "Fortunately Albus, Harry here is, as you know, prodigiously endowed with his magical reservoir. He should be stable enough to work on nearing the feast tonight. But I'd hate to think what could happen if he suffered any more trauma till then."<p>

Harry felt a great weight lift off his shoulders as he heard that, the idea of being holed up in the hospital wing for days, not being able to move anything but his eyes, was truly a terrifying thought. He fancied that it scared him perhaps more than anything else in the world, the idea of being helpless and unable to do anything as life moved on around him, trapped in the cage of his own body for the rest of his life.

-:-

Minerva McGonagall was beyond angry, beyond furious even. The fact that anyone, much less a student, much less one of her lions, could poison one of their classmates with an illegal drug was beyond her. She knew, rationally that any pureblood could get hold of the drug fairly easily; the scum in knockturn alley didn't much care who they sold to as long as they didn't have an ounce of Muggle blood in them. But the fact that a student not only knew about this, but had the gall to buy it thinking she could get away with it? It was beyond belief.

The Fat Lady opened immediately upon seeing the look on McGonagall's face and the aged deputy headmistress walked through the magically widened portrait hole as a matter of long practice, her wand already slipping back into her pocket after having used it to temporarily enlarge the opening. She was too old to be crawling through tight spaces. In the middle of the common room Ginny Weasley was sitting down still bound as Miss Granger had left her, surrounded by many of her angry house mates. The twins in particular looked especially murderous, and were regarding their sister with unbridled disgust on their faces.

The whole tableau was shocking enough, but what really stunned the head of Gryffindor was the look of defiance and justification on the young girl's face. There was no remorse there, only derision and unhidden desire. Minerva felt the bile of disgust rise in her throat. There was nothing more foul than someone who hurt others without remorse. Someone who felt entitled to do so. Even Miss Granger felt guilty about the way she had acted. She could have simply bound Ginevra, although no one blamed her for decking the younger girl.

In a loud voice Minerva decided to humiliate the girl further, it was unprofessional, but at this point she was beyond caring.  
>"Ginevra Molly Weasley I have never been more disgusted with a student in my entire tenure here at this venerable establishment! You had the gall to poison Mr Potter with a class A Illegal drug; a mind and body altering substance that has had a profound effect on the young man. What have you got to say for yourself?"<p>

Ginny shook her head slightly, even in her attitude of seeming dissent she knew not to argue with her Professor. With a wave of her wand she released the young girl from her bonds, and with a short command instructed Ginny to follow her back to the hospital wing. She didn't however notice the young man in the corner who had watched the entire affair.

-:-

Neville was sitting in one of the secluded chairs off to the side of the common room in the corner. When he had woken that morning to Hermione's screams of terror and had rushed down the stairs after the twins, Seamus hot on his heels. He'd been stricken to see Harry lolling against the wall like a ragdoll with Ginny bound on the floor. He had moved to release the red head from her bonds, but Hermione had spotted him and the look he got from her was nothing short of blood curdling.

Ginny had awoken some minutes later, and was yelling her head off about Mudbloods and gold digging whores. The young teen had been shocked at her language. Her vile insults spoken with a cruel malice that left no doubt in his mind that what Harry and Hermione had told him on the train was true; she had hoodwinked him with simple lies and promises. He felt like a fool. A part of him was still slightly bitter however, what with Hermione's heritage and Harry's disdain for purebloods, who was he to think they wouldn't lie to him when they had made a clear point of disparaging other ancient and noble houses? Who was he to think the Longbottom house would be any different to them?

Watching McGonagall taking Ginny to task had been less of an eye opener and more of a condemnation. The accusation that Ginny had used drugs to try and get what she wanted from Harry wasn't a surprise to Neville, not really. He hadn't quite been aware of that particular drug's classification, but he had known she was in possession of it. The idea that she had bought it herself was false however, Neville knew full well that Ginny hadn't bought them. He knew because she had convinced Neville to do it for her.

In the corner of the common room Neville Longbottom considered all that had happened in the last couple of months and decided then and there that he needed to send his Gran a letter. She had known the Potters when they were alive. Maybe she had an insight onto Harry's attitude, and maybe, maybe she could give him a reason to trust the Potter scion.

-:-

The hospital ward had finally gone quiet, it was just after lunch time and Hermione was sitting with Harry asking him yes/no questions and doing her best to comfort him. Once she'd figured out that he could still feel everything that was going on she'd held his hand, taking it into her own and clinging to him, anxious not to let him go. It was hard for her to see him like this, the vibrant enthusiastic and hot guy who'd rocked her world in the best of ways the night before laying her like a limp fish with no sense of life about him. His mouth slack with drool running from his lips which she wiped for him without a thought.

She had realized that she would do this every day for him if she had to, and that realization had come at a startling time not an hour earlier.

-:-

Hermione was on edge when the hospital wing doors swung open to admit Professor McGonagall and Ginny. She'd wanted to rise from the bed, fists or spells flying to finish what she'd started with the girl. It wouldn't be hard, she could kill her easily, with a single jab of her wand. So simple, so ridiculously simple and easy that it scared her. The power of a lethal weapon was in her hand all the time now and the startling responsibility of that thought mollified her into restraint.

Dumbledore had talked with Ginny for a few minutes, and Hermione couldn't honestly say what they had spoken off. She was far too wound up to do anything but make sure Harry was still okay. Anything else and she thought she might lose control and actually act on those wild impulsive urges to physically maim the younger girl for nearly killing her man. And that was the crux of the matter. If Hermione had been unable to stop Harry from choking on his own spit then there was no way that Ginny could have. She would have killed him.

It scared Hermione more that she was willing to admit that Harry had nearly died. The thought that she wouldn't ever be able to look into his eyes and see the light there. To not be able to see his happy smile. Not feel him hug her, or kiss her, or hold her as they fell asleep. Never would she have been able to share a conversation with him again, or laugh at one of his jokes. It was like Ron dying all over again; the dread of having her closest friend ripped away from her because of the jealously of the slight red headed pureblood who stood just feet away.

The sense of entitlement that Ginny had shocked Hermione to her core; that the young girl would play with someone's life so casually was appalling. That she would play with Harry's life, a man she loved greater than her own parents, was something Hermione couldn't abide. Then it hit her, Harry meant more to her than anyone on the planet, more than her parents, more than Ron had meant, more than her own life, and as she sat here making sure that he was comfortable she felt her heart clench in certainty. This wouldn't be the last time she would be at his bedside, worried for his safety. But she knew that she would do this every single day if she had to.

As long as it mean that Harry was still alive, she could handle being here for him.

-:-

That realization that she would literally sit here every day wiping his drool and giving him the simple company of her conversation was something that she honestly wasn't surprised at. Some part of her, somewhere in the very depths of her being knew that from the moment Harry had saved her from the troll, the moment she had seen him when she walked in after being revived from petrification, the moment when she had sat behind him on Buckbeak terrified for her life, she knew in those moments without any shadow of doubt that she would always be here for him. The understanding that he would do the same if not more for her just made the commitment all the more solid in her heart.

Hermione loved his boy, this man. If before there was any doubt there certainly was none now, through thick and thin, dark lords and basilisks, she would be here for him. She would love him unconditionally because she wanted to. She wanted to be here for him, to show him that finally, someone cared enough to put aside their own petty needs for his. She would be here because nothing else mattered, not grades, not jealous friends, and certainly not Ginny fucking Weasley. Nothing mattered but him.

She gently brushed his hair back from his brow and softly asked, "Is there anything I can get for you love?" Two blinks.  
>"Are you comfortable?" One blink.<br>She gathered her courage, it felt almost cruel to ask him while he was like this, but she needed to see it, needed to be reassured that he felt the same way. She had heard him say it often enough, but she wasn't perfect and the events of the morning had shaken her. She needed to know.  
>"Do you love me?" One blink.<p>

-:-

Eventually Poppy determined that Harry was probably stable enough to work on without risk and she had immediately set to work. Hermione wasn't sure what the Matron was doing, but was shocked at how much effort it took to cure Harry. She was so used to magical cures being fast and easy, simple wand waves, but this was much different.

She had started at Harry's head first, then worked her way out across his body in a radial fashion, waving her wand over every joint in his body for several minutes at a time muttering a litany of charms over and over again. Harry's jaw had been the first thing she tackled and eventually he could speak again. The first words out of his mouth were thanks, to everyone who was still there, but especially, making Hermione's heart flutter just thinking about it, to her for saving him from what would have been a horrifically slow and painful demise. Not to mention abject humiliation.

He had slowly regained the use of his body as Poppy worked on him. Occasionally he would grimace and shudder at the strange sensation of suddenly being able to move again. He described it something like being pulled slowly out of tar. He could feel everything around him, but until each part of his body was dragged from the paralyzing malaise. He couldn't move or otherwise affect his surroundings.

When he was finally free Hermione had been shocked when he had actually pulled Poppy into a loose embrace for a second. The feeling of helplessness, she learned later, had terrified him beyond belief. Only the lack of control over his mouth had prevented him from screaming his frustration and fear several times. Hermione had watched Ginny be led away earlier, Harry had closed his eyes, refusing to meet the red head's gaze. She would be expelled, there was no other option for what she had done.

Hermione had initially been surprised at that, but in retrospect it seemed appropriate. She had almost killed Harry after all, and she didn't feel remorse for her actions. Gryffindor had rallied behind Harry. Fred and George in particular had helped, by flanking Harry as he headed towards the Great Hall for the feast. Several times his muscles had given out unexpectedly and they had needed to catch him and support him physically as he recovered. Poppy had assured them that these bouts would decrease in time and he should probably spend tomorrow in bed. She had tried to coerce him in to staying the night in the infirmary, but he had refused point blank to avoid the feast. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to see the Goblet of Fire in action and he wouldn't miss it for the world.

What truly surprised her was the reaction from the rest if the school, they had been evenly split down a single line. Those who supported what Ginny had done, and those who abhorred it. It seemed that Slytherin, barring a scant few members, was entire behind Ginny's actions saying it was her right as the sole female member heir of a pureblood house to take Harry (being a half blood) as her lover. The fact that it would have been a feather in the young Gryffindor's hat against Hermione wasn't far from their minds either. It seemed none of them were overly concerned (or didn't believe) that Harry's life had been in danger. Some of them even seemed pleased by the idea.

It had deeply surprised all four of the Gryffindors when Daphne Greengrass and her brunette friend Tracy had actually approached them on their way down to the Great Hall and offered their support, after the initial suspicion from Fred and George the two left, but not before making it clear that they didn't condone what Ginny had done. Hermione considered why the Slytherin girls had acted in such a way and then realized the answer was actually quite simple. The Greengrasses were a French family historically, only the lasts generation was British born and they did not have the same prejudices as British purebloods. Tracey of course was a half blood.

Ravenclaw had been a surprise. The Claws had to a man (Or woman) publicly defamed Ginny with a petition to have the redhead expelled. It was a moot point of course as she was already expelled, but the support had been heartening. Hufflepuff had perhaps been the biggest surprise as many of them had come through the hospital wing to give their support. But others had, apparently, stayed in firm loyalty to Ginny, and while they were mostly friends of hers from her year group the inclusion of both of the fifth year Hufflepuff prefects was a shock. It seemed that the rumour mill of Hogwarts had not only successfully replicated the facts of the incident, but had also managed to create two disparate factions who seemed to be at odds with one another over the event.

-:-

Harry winced as Fred and George helped him onto one of the benches at the Gryffindor table. For some reason he was getting painful cramps all through his body, a side effect of the physiological effects of the draught Ginny drugged him with. They made his muscles insensate and several times he had nearly collapsed. He knew Hermione was having kittens with worry over him and he could only do his best to reassure her that he would be fine.

Harry wasn't unaware of how difficult this was for Hermione; he knew that he was usually very active, his morning runs around the black lake and their activities the previous night attested to that. As did his impressive performance in his duel against Seamus during DADA the previous afternoon. To see him so frail was probably the hardest thing she had yet had to deal with as his girlfriend and he hated putting her through it. But he was nevertheless happy that she loved him enough to stay with him and stick by his side.

He had truly been touched when he had first felt her wipe away the droll that had pooled over the side of his mouth when he was limp. It had been a singularly humiliating experience, especially when his body had decided to void his bladder a couple of hours after lunch and he had been forced to lay there as Hermione cleaned him with a spell. He had no idea where she learned the charm, but he was thankful for it. He would have died of embarrassment if Poppy had discovered what had happened. He was gratified too to see no pity in Hermione's eyes only the steadfast love that he had so quickly come to depend on.

The way she looked after him, with a kind sense of duty mixed with affection and love had made his heart break a little with happiness. She was more than he could ever ask for and even the humiliating embarrassment of not being in control of his body was muted at her devotion. It was constantly a source of surprise to Harry just how much Hermione cared for him. She had been there for him since the beginning of their friendship, and the contrast between her and the Dursleys was immense.

The feast itself was a warm welcome from his earlier state. The ability to carefully chew his food and then actively swallow it was an activity that he thoroughly enjoyed. Being able to hold Hermione's hand as they talked was a big plus too. When Dumbledore finally got to his feet to choose the Tri Wizard Champions Harry began to get excited. He and Hermione had planned to sit in the room the Goblet had been placed in to watch everyone place their names and take bets on who they thought was going to be chosen. But obviously with his hospitalization those plans had been cancelled.

-:-

Hermione was nervous, she didn't know why, it was irrational really, but there it was, a constant state of nerves that was making her entire body tremble with worry. It was Halloween, and despite what anyone said this night was bad for Harry. He'd lost his parents on Halloween, the troll had entered the school on Halloween, and he'd nearly died protecting her from that beast that night. It seemed that every year something horrific happened on Halloween, this year of course he'd been poisoned. She hoped that was all that was in store for him but she couldn't be sure.

As Dumbledore approached the Goblet of fire the entire school held its breath, suddenly a vivid red burst of flame shot towards the roof of the Hall several meters up from the Goblet and a glowing piece of parchment materialized in Dumbledore's outstretched hand.  
>"The Champion for Durmstrang School of Sorcery and Spell-craft is…"<br>The Durmstrang students were drumming their fists on the Slytherin table excitedly, Hermione couldn't help but grin, it was such an ordinary teenage thing to do that she was forcibly reminded that they were just kids too.

"Victor Krum!"

The loud cheers from the whole school accompanied Victor Krum's ascent and somewhat surly walk to the front of the hall. One would expect him to be used to the attention but he seemed to almost shy away from it. He shook Dumbledore's hand then disappeared into a room behind the head table.

The noise in the Great Hall dissipated abruptly as fire burst out of the Goblet once more and Dumbledore held up another piece of parchment. "The Champion for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic… is Fleur Delacour!"

The cheering in the Great hall was more polite than anything else, Fleur didn't have the international acclaim that Victor Krum had and the Beauxbatons students were mostly bemoaning not being champion themselves and were too mixed up in their own grief to cheer. A few even booed. Hermione got the impression that Fleur wasn't well liked in Beauxbatons, and after last night's fiasco she could understand why.

Once more the sound in the Great Hall plummeted as Dumbledore again received a parchment.  
>"The Champion for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is… Cedric Diggory!"<p>

The Slytherin table politely clapped, but it was drowned out by the roaring cheers of the other three houses. Hufflepuff was especially exuberant and Harry and Hermione both politely clapped for the young man. He was a good person with a decent intellect and a fair minded spirit. They both agreed tacitly that he was an excellent choice to represent the school.

Dumbledore was speaking then, "And those are our three champions, the first task of the tournament will be held on the twenty fourth of October..." What else the headmaster would have said was cut off as the Goblet sputtered once then a fourth tongue of fire spat into the darkness of hall.

Dumbledore's face became grave as a final piece of parchment appeared in his hand, "Harry Potter!"

Instantly there was uproar, the entirety of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables were on their feet yelling in anger towards the head table. There was no way Harry could have placed his name he had been in the hospital wing the entire day. The Hufflepuffs were up in arms as well but for an entirely different reason, they felt this was stealing their long awaited thunder. Hermione only had eyes for Harry, she wrapped an arm around him and held him close. She knew full well that he didn't put his name in that , and she'd be damned if he competed in the tournament. He was in no state to be dealing with this right now, and she could already see the stress making his tired brain think about quitting and forcing his body to unconsciousness. His eyes were drooping and even though she would imagine adrenaline to be flowing through him he looked like he wanted nothing more than to simply melt into her arms and sleep.

Dumbledore's wand let off several blasts and the Hall quieted. "Mr Potter, could you please come to the front so we can ascertain the meaning of this?"  
>Hermione was well aware that Harry had a strong character, but seeing him throw off his fatigue to answer the Headmaster's call made her more proud than she could rightly say. He stood from the bench and started down between them, all eyes on him. Despite his resolve his body failed him and the tremors that had been assaulting his frame all afternoon forced him to his knees. Almost immediately Hermione and the Twins were at his side helping him up and towards the head's table. It was a mark of how much support the school had for him that no one jeered or threw insults at his weakness. Not even from Slytherin, although Hermione did see the look Daphne was giving Malfoy that explained his silence.<p>

Slowly they made their way to the front and Dumbledore pointed them to the back room. The four of them made their way inside and were instantly assailed by questions from the other three champions.

-:-

"What's wrong with Harry? The hospital wing is the other way, what's going on?"  
>"What's the meaning of this? Do they want us to return? What's going on?"<br>"What is this little boy doing in here?"  
>The last question came from the lips of an enchantingly beautiful young woman by the name of Fleur Delacour. Immediately she regretted the words, they were harsh but she was more than a little on edge. Looking at him she realized that he was actually the same boy she'd noticed last night. He hadn't been affected by her allure and it had been a huge attraction for her. He wasn't exactly ugly either. Looking closer she saw the deep abiding love that the young girl had for him, and that he returned. It was hard for her to accept, but that was likely the cause for his immunity to the allure. Not an innate defence that would make him compatible with her. Deciding then and there that he would make a better friend she tried to rectify her mistake.<p>

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude I'm just a bit on edge, is he okay?" The flinty gaze of the young woman who was helping him sit down caught her, when she saw the earnest expression on Fleur's face however it seemed to soften.  
>"It's a long story, but his name just came out of the Goblet."<p>

Fleur fought down her ire, there had to be a good reason for this, he didn't exactly look like he was up to being a champion.  
>"Pourqoui?" Fleur realized she'd slipped into her native tongue, but it didn't faze the girl.<br>"We don't know, he wasn't in any condition to submit his name today so I have no idea what to think. I'm worried for him though."

Fleur intended to ask more questions but she was interrupted as Dumbledore entered the room followed by Madame Maxime, Kakaroff, and the Ex Auror who taught at the school. The two ministry officials who she could never remember the names of had entered as well, but a few steps behind the others. She went and stood by her headmistress as Dumbledore approached Harry.  
>"Bear with me Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"<br>"No"  
>"Did you ask another student to put your name in the Goblet for you?"<br>"No"

Fleur was a little annoyed when Madame Maxime aggravated the situation.  
>"But he is lying, obviously he hoodwinked the cup! You said you had put provisions in place to stop this Dumbledore! Yet here you are taking two bites of the apple!"<br>Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Karkaroff who spoke in a thick accent  
>"Indeed Albus, you've been awfully cagey about this event, what's to say you didn't plan this yourself?"<br>Dumbledore was getting irritated and Fleur flinched back from the look on his face, she had to remind herself that this, admittedly old, man had beaten Grindlewald and that was no mean feat.

"Listen to me, Mr Potter was poisoned earlier today and has been in the hospital wing recovering ever since. I didn't set the Goblet up in its room until after he had arrived and he was out of the hospital wing long after it was taken down. He could not have placed his own name in the Goblet. As for asking another student, Harry maybe an oath would calm them?

Fleur gasped under her breath, poisoned? Harry Potter? Was this boy's life destined for hardship? She knew his story, everyone knew his story. In a way she pitied him for the life he was forced to lead. She could not imagine her own without her parents and little sister. She was shocked when Harry quite calmly swore on his magic that he had nothing to do with his name being put in the goblet. A quick lumos quickly confirmed his oath.

This did indeed seem to calm the other professors down a little but they immediately rounded on Dumbledore himself  
>"What is to say you didn't put his name in the goblet yourself Dumbledore?"<br>Fleur nearly groaned in frustration, she was grateful for her headmistress's indignation and anger on her behalf but it was getting silly. She decided to step in.  
>"I believe that he did nothing of the sort Headmistress, look at him, does he look like he wants to be here? Does he look fit to compete? I say we trust them and instead move to see if we can get him out of the tournament, he doesn't deserve this."<p>

Her words earned her a thankful look from all four of the teens, Harry and his three supports. Even Cedric looked somewhat relieved. Krum on the other hand looked angry, though she could not tell why and he didn't speak. Her support didn't seem to do much to the heads' ire but the grizzled ex Auror stepped in his gnarled hands gesturing broadly.  
>"Calm it, all of you. A third party has obviously tricked the cup, as much as we'd like to think otherwise it's frustratingly easy to simply place a confundus charm on that old hunk of lumber. Anyone with a greater than average intelligence could have simply confounded the cup to think there were four schools and submitted Harry's name under this fourth school."<p>

That had them all thinking, Fleur asked the question on everyone's mind  
>"But why? Many have died in the tournament in the past, it isn't for the unprepared."<br>The ex Auror's words shocked her. "Maybe someone is hoping he will die in it."

Those words stopped everyone cold, the thought that someone had entered his name with the intent of getting him killed was at the same time difficult to believe and horrifying. For her part Fleur was indignant, she had just gotten used to the idea of making a friend here when the concept of him being yanked away was introduced. It seemed that Harry's love wasn't exactly going to take that sitting down.

"Not happening, he's underage you should be able to get him out of this. He can't sign binding contracts."  
>Fleur raised an eyebrow, the girl had a point, and she turned to the ministry officials as one cleared his throat.<p>

His voice filled with disdain. "This isn't a Muggle contract you silly girl. Magical contracts don't care about your age, just your compliance. Entering his name was enough."

An angry huff filled the air.  
>"But that isn't compliance, Harry didn't enter his name, someone else did."<br>The official snorted in derision, "The magic of the contract leaves no debate, Mr. Potter must compete in the tournament."  
>Fleur couldn't help but notice that while everyone was arguing around him, bar the two redheaded boys, Harry seemed to be quiet. Without really even realizing what she was doing Fleur moved across the room and knelt down in front of him, taking one of his hands in hers<br>"I don't begrudge you this Harry, I know you don't want to be in this tournament and I know you must be scared, but I'll do my best to help you get through this, you don't deserve to deal with this on your own."

She took a breath and glanced at the young woman at his side who appeared to be giving her the benefit of the doubt.  
>"We might be technically rivals, but I'd rather sacrifice my chance to win for your life. You're not alone in this."<p>

She heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her, probably the Headmistress, she didn't care. She was surprised however when Krum spoke up for the first time.  
>"I agree Potter. You have not done anything to deserve being thrown into this tournament. I believe we can work together to make sure you at least survive yes?"<br>They both turned to Cedric who had stepped forwards looking at Dumbledore.  
>"We'll support him and keep him alive sir, but you need to get him out of this, I don't care how but it's a disservice to him, to this school and to England to have him here against his will."<p>

-:-

Hermione reflected that as the Champions pledged their support that there was truly good people in the world. These two young men and the young woman she strongly suspected was a Veela, were not only potentially giving up their chances at the prize money and glory of the win, but also their own safety to protect someone they barely knew. It was, she thought, a testament to the goodness in people. She smiled especially at the young woman who was still kneeling in front of Harry. The girl clearly didn't like the idea of Harry competing any more than she did. In her she could see a kindred spirit. Somewhat of an outcast, intelligent, and willing to do what she could to help others. Never mind that they were polar opposites when it came to appearance regardless of what Harry thought.

Harry at her side was quiet and she rather suspected that he had retreated somewhere within himself to debate how to deal with the latest mess he had gotten into. It was with something of a relief that they were given the details of the timing for the first task and that it would be a test of courage and daring. Hermione thought wryly that under other circumstances that would be right up Harry's alley; courage and daring may as well be his middle names. The heads and teachers left after a while and Harry assured the twins that he was feeling better and that they should return to the tower to explain the situation to everyone.

Hermione, however, he asked to stay and she was only too happy to oblige, it wasn't like she was going to let him out of her sight anyway, not after that morning. The four champions gathered around the low table in the room and pulled up various chairs. She thought it was strange that three wizards and two witches, all from different backgrounds and lifestyles, could put aside their differences and loyalties to right a wrong that had been done, in reality, to all of them.

She considered the other champion's positions. Cedric was a true member of Hufflepuff, loyal to a fault, and dedicated to what was right. She couldn't ever imagine him approaching this differently, but then again she barely knew him so she couldn't judge. Fleur she suspected was much in the same boat as Harry, if she was right about her heritage then they were both sought after for things they would really rather not have, things they couldn't control. Krum she could only imagine at, he didn't seem to appreciate his fame and Hermione was fairly certain that he wasn't overly eager to be in the tournament in the first place. Rather he was probably expected to compete because of his existing notoriety; perhaps he more than any could understand Harry's reluctance to participate.

There was little said for several minutes, all of them brooding on their own thoughts. The Beauxbatons Headmistress and the Durmstrang Headmaster had instructed their champions to wait here while they talked with Dumbledore about how to proceed. Cedric she suspected stayed from a sense of duty and solidarity. Whereas she was sure Harry simply wanted to remain because he was too tired to go elsewhere right now.

Eventually Cedric broke the ice with Krum and Fleur gently asked Harry with a concerned tone about his poisoning. Conversation was tense and the five teens slowly built a steady flow of discussion. Conversation was tacitly steered away from the tournament by all parties, no one really wanted to talk about what was looming over their heads. That someone could have orchestrated this to commit a murder.

They formed some firm friendships that night. Fleur proved to be an intelligent witch who, after Hermione was assured that Fleur had no designs on Harry, decided that she was more than okay with the three of them becoming good friends. Cedric, Krum and Harry all shared Seeking as a common ground, and they all at least had a cordial relationship by the time the Heads returned.

-:-

As Harry crawled into bed he reflected on the evening, he was greatly surprised at how it had turned out, not only because of the fact that he was, completely out of the blue mind you, the fourth champion, but he had the support of the school and the other three champions. All in all things could have been much worse.

He was broken out of his reverie as Hermione crawled into bed with him and slid her arms around his waist sliding close and holding onto him as if her life depended on him.

Her soft words made him frown. "I'm scared Harry." He stroked her hair softly, comforting her had become second nature to him of late.  
>"Me too, but I have more support than I could possibly ask for love, and having you makes everything easier."<p>

He felt her grin, her lips against his bare chest were a wonderful feeling. After last night neither of them wanted to wear anything to bed except their underwear. They wanted to be close to each other, and they both felt more comfortable with less on. The skin to skin contact was fantastic too. In winter they would probably don more clothes, or perhaps just use a warming charm, but for the moment they were content.

"You'll always have me." She paused, and he didn't interrupt, knowing something else was on her mind and judging by the tone in her voice she was insecure about it too and that worried him.  
>"What do you think of Fleur?" Huh, now if that wasn't a trap for young players he didn't know what was, fortunately he knew what she was getting at.<br>"She'll make an excellent friend for the both of us I think." He heard her chuckle.  
>"You saw right through that didn't you?" He chuckled himself. They were far too close for either of them to deceive the other, they had no secrets and they didn't lie.<br>"You need to try harder than that to fool me love. I know what's bugging you though, I've seen the way the guys all go misty eyed around her. She's a Veela right?"  
>He chuckled again at Hermione's shocked silence, if he was perfectly honest he was a little offended<br>"Hey, I pay attention to things as well you know."

He got a rare giggle out of he as she snuggled closer into him  
>"Sorry love, and yeah, I'd have to hear it from her but I think so." Harry smiled, there was an easy solution to her fears.<br>"Didn't you say that love makes guys immune to the Veela charm?"  
>"Allure Harry, and yes I did, why?"<br>"It's a moot point then, because I love you."

Her little grin into his chest didn't go unnoticed. "But what about her more terrestrial assets, her alien beauty aside she's not exactly ugly."  
>"Neither are you my love, and you have my heart. Don't worry I'm not interested in her."<br>"You might just get yourself rewarded for that Mr Potter." Harry grinned in anticipation, but knew he had to put off that particular pleasure.  
>"Not that I'm not appreciative, but perhaps tomorrow? I'm so exhausted right now I don't think…"<br>He felt her hair move across his chest as she lifted her head up to look at him, his blush clearly visible.  
>"You don't think what love?" Harry was mortified, it was such an awkward thing for him to talk about, not to mention embarrassing, that he honestly didn't know how to proceed. Eventually he just blurted it out<br>"I don't think I could get it up."

Hermione giggled again, wow, two in one night, but she laid her head back down on his chest and snuggled, if possible, even closer.  
>"Then I'd hate to waste the favour, tomorrow it is then."<p>

-:-

They cuddled and talked for a few more minutes but Harry soon dropped off to sleep. Hermione couldn't sleep however and her thoughts were whirling. She had nearly lost him today, and things weren't looking up for the future. She had a gut feeling that things were only going to get worse and she knew that she would have to stand by his side through what was coming. But she didn't shy away from that; she welcomed the chance to stand at his side, welcomed the chance to protect the man she was coming to see as not only her best friend and the love of her life, but as a future husband.

It was the next logical step in their relationship, it would most likely take years to come about, but she knew that she would be content to wait and so would Harry. They would be together for many years to come, she'd make sure of it, if only so that she had him with her when they were finally ready to take the plunge into matrimony. She fell asleep that night not dreaming of death and decay, but of the handsome man who held her in his arms, and the dress that she might one day wear as she walked down the aisle to his side to stand next to him forever.

-:-

AN2: This one isn't quite as long as some of the others, but its action packed so have fun!

AN3: I don't usually like soliciting responses but I'd really like some feedback about sorcery and the theory behind it, I'm doing my best to make it seem like it could have been a part of the HP universe without seeming to be 'Over powered' like a lot of utility/alternate spell casting is in fanfiction. That said, I'll not be turning Harry into a supersoldier, yes he has a talent for sorcery, but he isn't going to get phoenix animagus powers metamorph abilities and hand lightning reminiscent of star wars. He's just a kid who happens to be very good at focusing his spells.

AN4: Review Responses: (so many of these holy balls)  
>Lisbeth Lou Who: awww thanks, I do try, hopefully this one's up to scratch<p>

NathanHale: Here's that Neville fallout you were looking for :D, I agree that Harry's behaviour suggests that a sort of collective student body of fighters would be apparent, but not until later, and they certainly don't know military strategy, at least not yet. I'm sure Harry or Hermione will pick it up in a book somewhere ;), they will certainly be more organised, and otherwise thanks!

God of all: Thankyou very much!

Laughoften: Of course Hermione will e able to keep up with him, it's not like Harry has any kind of super power, he just has single minded drive and an above average magical resovoir. Hermione is hard working and dedicated, she'll be able to match anything Harry can do, it might just take a while longer to get there for some things.

Albrkic: Thanks! Here's that update you wanted

Pawsrule: haha thanks, maybe not as much as I enjoyed writing it ;)

JHarry: He is a good person, it's just hidden beneath thirteen years of his gran ramming pureblood ideals down his neck like Lucius does with Draco. They're not quite the same ideals obviously but the concept is the same

Starboy: Thankyou!

Becuzitzwrong: I'm gonna tackle all your reviews in one fell swoop okay?  
>First up, a global thanks to all of the reviews you sent in and the dedication to continuing to review each chapter, I know full well how hard that can be to force yourself to do as a reader.<br>I fixed that mistake you picked out in the first chapter, thanks, second, this whole thing with the grangers that a few people have thought was fishy. Yes they are taking to Harry remarkably quickly, yes they offer to adopt him within 24 hours. That's what we see in the blow by blow, in reality Hermione has been talking about Harry for years, they've been reading the letters Harry sends to Hermione, they know what he's like via Hermione's experiences, so he isn't a total stranger to them, you know how thorough she is in describing things. As for the whole adoption thing, what they're doing that night is putting the possibility on the table to be reviewed at a later date. They spend an entire month together where the Granger's decision gets solidified. As for this whole "Hermione is more thoughtful and wouldn't admit her Love for Harry' business, that comes down to Hermione having decided that she loved Harry long before this, she's just finally saying it out loud now, the Grangers most likely already knew that she had a thing for him long before that, and as many people have said in the past Harry and Hermione are far older than their years.

*takes a deep breath* You're not wrong about Emma Watson being similar to my Hermione, especially in the earlier years. Physically they are very similar, without makeup. The problem is that in my mind Emma was turned into one of the major Harry Potter sex symbols and I can't think about Emma Watson (As Hermione) without connecting her to that, I needed a fresh perspective on it to keep my writing, and your reading, on the right track.

Also, while I'm thinking about it, Harry doesn't ask them to never report it, he's sort of saying, 'hold on a sec I we need to talk about it first'

Mate, I'm still not sure about Harry hitting Ginny, but this scene was to show that not everyone is perfect, Harry wasn't raised well, he doesn't have the ingrained response not to hurt women, he knows it's wrong, but it's not as strong a compulsion as it would be for someone who had it told them. Chances are he also saw Vernon hurting petunia at some point or other and that wouldn't have helped. Notice that neither Harry nor Hermione were happy with him doing that, Harry feels extremely guilty about it and Hermione wanted to cuff him around the ears. But why does he do it in the first place? Consider that it's the second time Ginny has done this, then consider that Harry's been bottling up the rage at Hermione being called a mudblood from second year onwards, then consider that Ginny's brother died just over a week ago, she has no respect or shame. Then the fact that Harry's emotions have been all over the place and this was just the straw that broke the camel's back and he snapped and lashed out, then felt horrible about doing so immediately afterward.

As for the fact that there isn't much in the way of women's rights? It was a conscious decision to have that aspect of the world and it's a large part of the plot. I'm taking wizarding society from about the fifteenth century when women, especially the women of prominent families, were little more than chattel, to be sold to the highest bidder for political and financial gain. It's a horrible thing to think about but it's one of the strong impetuses for what will happen later. And I'll nip another thing in the bud now while we're talking about it, why do girls even get schooling then? Because Muggleborns and Half Bloods are schooled fully and rarely get sold in marriage contracts and go on to lead full successful lives, often overseas. Why would the Purebloods allow their wives to be less well educated than a muggleborn? Also note that I personally don't hold these views, so before anyone goes flaming me I'd just like to say that the concept of selling a woman in any situation is abhorrent to me

Is Moody a DE? Good question, keep reading to find out ;), and yes, the Dursley's got fifteen years. Wizards might have hd something to do with that when they realized who the Dursley's had been abusing (Muggleborns working inside the system for example)

Anotherbaorduser: *Takes deep breath again* GUNS Ugh, I know a lot of people are going to have a right fit at me but this isn't a story about going out on Saturday for a spot of Voldemort skeet shooting. This is a story about overcoming difficulties and Harry growing into himself (Hermione into herself as well mind) as intelligent conscientious people who have a wealth of knowledge and determination to do the right thing. It's about working hard to overcome not only the physical obstacles but also the mental ones. Killing someone via spellfire is a much more personal experience than using a gun, as you deul them your eyes are locked you're staring each other down and it's all very intimate. To see the light leave that person's eyes as you kill them is a far more soul rattling thing and it will be something that both of our main protagonists have to overcome. I see guns as the easy way out, and yes I could put a piece of phlebotinum into the story to make guns useless but why? It's much more compelling that they have that option and still choose to go through the personal struggle of a duel. It's a character building thing.

Lady-Isowen: Delicious Harmony goodness indeed *waggles eyebrows* glad you liked it

As always thanks to everyone for reading and other shenanigans. Sorry for the gigantic AN, had a lot of people to respond to and I'm terrible at being concise. Until next time!

LGreymark


	10. Preparations and Fallout

AN: Disclaimer as per the first chapter let's get into it shall we?

-:-

Chapter nine: Preparations and Fallout

In the weeks leading up to the first task Harry experienced not only fun and the satisfaction of learning, but heartache and sadness. The first DADA lesson after Halloween that Wednesday was something of a difficult experience for Harry. They were, as a class, learning about kinetic sorceries and he was reminded painfully of Ron.

-:-

Entering the DADA classroom Harry was shocked to see the same giant chess set that he Hermione and Ron had seen in their first year. Now however all the spaces were filled and the pieces were inert. Moody was standing in the middle of the board and gestured the six students of their class around him.  
>"I don't suppose I need to tell you all what this is. Does everyone here know the rules of chess?"<p>

The students all nodded much to Harry's surprise, he wouldn't have thought Lavender or Parvarti would have known the rules.  
>"Good, you'll need that for later, for the moment I just want you all to consider what we've dealt with up until today. The offensive sorcery we've handled till now has been revolving around the idea of having a focus of some kind, a weapon. Now however we need to shift the concentration of our foci from weapons to vectors. Can anyone explain what a vector is?"<p>

As usual Hermione gave the Muggle definition of the term and Moody awarded his standard five points.  
>"Quite right Granger! Muggles use vectors to describe a direction and a sense of distance. In sorcery we use them in much the same way, but it's more of an instinctual art as few people have the presence of mind to concentrate on exact degree coordinates and velocity for their targets. Rather we will have a mental image of what we want our sorcery to do and then we go from there. For instance," He summoned a wooden sphere about four inches wide, then levitated it, "What can we do with this sphere with conventional spell casting? At your level you can levitate it vertically and use a simple charm to move it horizontally, no mixed or curved movement and only one speed. But with sorcery…"<p>

He flicked his wand and the ball rocketed backwards into the wall some fifteen meters away and several meters up the high stud ceiling.  
>"It doesn't look very impressive now but you can imagine doing that to an opponent in a duel? Or a conjured spear? Or a pile of bricks? The possibilities vastly improve your chances in a duel if you're creative enough. A banishing charm works similar to that of course, but we don't have to just do that."<p>

He gestured to the ball and it whizzed to his hand before he tossed it on the ground then flicked up. With a slight rushing sound it shot towards the ceiling before falling back down.  
>"We can go in any direction we please, with a little control you can even…" With a smooth curving motion he made the ball spin in slow circles on the spot, slowly spiralling out to a meter radius circle.<br>"You can do about anything. Now I want you all to take one of these," He summoned six more of the spheres and passes them around.  
>"And practice some simple movements, different directions etc. When you feel a little more confident you can try curves, spirals or more controlled motion. As for the how, so far we've dealt with foci for our sorcery that are objects, such as projectiles and bladed weapons. What I want you to do is instead of focusing on the object, focus rather on the direction and speed you want the object to travel in. The rest of the process is much the same as before. Determination, focus, gesture, and magic; now get started."<p>

To Harry's surprise the Kinetic Sorcels turned out to be much trickier to handle; having to concentrate on the direction and speed was rather difficult. In the end Harry realized that it was easier to think about the destination that he wanted the ball to get to and then simply adjust the speed of the propulsion by changing the amount of magic he forced out of his wand. Soon he was making his little sphere zip all over the room. When he started to try making the ball curve it was much harder still. He realized quickly that just thinking of the destination wasn't enough, he had to visualise the type of curve he wanted, whether it was a simple arc or an 's' bend, a spiral or a circle.

Unsurprisingly Hermione turned out to be far more proficient at this and she was soon making her little sphere perform elaborate manoeuvres. When questioned she simply said that it was a matter of concentration. Harry put it down to the fact that Hermione could concentrate on a variety of different things at once which was integral to the task at hand. Harry noticed that apart from himself and Hermione, Neville was the one with the greatest aptitude for the task which surprised him. It was generally understood that Neville had a hard time concentrating on anything, but this seemed to come naturally to him.

It wasn't until just before they were instructed to stop that Harry made a major breakthrough with his sorcery, instead of trying to separate his concentration into three separate areas, destination direction and force, he simply visualised the motion and speed he wanted the little ball to perform as a smooth simultaneous action; working on his instinct and will rather than a defined formula. It became quite simple then to simply impose his will on his magic to make the little ball do what he wanted it to. After nearly half an hour Moody stopped them all and brought them all back to the centre of the chessboard.

"Now, for the next couple of weeks we're going to be practising these sorceries. Getting control on kinetic sorcery is very difficult, but anyone can achieve it with enough practise. So what we're going to do is split the six of you into two teams of three, one captain a side, and play chess with your new skills. The captain dictates where the pieces go and the three players help by moving the pieces in a controlled fashion. We'll keep the one game going until one team or other wins, and then we'll move on. I expect you all to learn to work as a team, meld your magic together to make it work on a common purpose, then execute. The winners will get a special treat at the end of the match."

Everyone looked a little apprehensive and Harry felt a pang of regret, Ron would have loved this and it reminded him of their first year when Ron had done exactly what Moody was suggesting to get them closer to the Stone. Glancing to Hermione he saw her eyes brimming with unshed tears and knew she had remembered the same things.

-:-

The teams ended up being boys versus girls and the competition was fierce, if somewhat muted due to the requirements of chess. There was much laughter as several pieces ended up being tipped over making a domino like effect that required a board reset. The large heavy pieces required all three people on each team to move with their magic and the six teens were forced to learn to work together.

Harry's other classes were no less challenging, in Transfiguration the fourth years were learning how to merge multiple spells together to 'hop' through a series of transfigurations instantly without the intermediary steps. For instance they already knew how to turn a knife into a fork, then into a spoon, then into a plate, then into a bowl, then a cup, but with sufficient practice and a slightly modified spell it was possible to merge those transfigurations together and turn the knife directly into a cup.

Harry found the task somewhat pointless, there was of course a spell designed to turn a knife into a cup. But as Hermione mentioned to him one evening as they were practising it wasn't a case of speed or convenience, but rather of determination, concentration, and control. If they could learn how to do this with other transfiguration chains then it could rapidly affect how they could work together as a pair. One example being one of them turning stones into spears (usually a three stage process) then the other using their sorcery to banish the weapons at an enemy.

Charms had become a lesson in patience as the fourth years struggled with enlargement and reduction spells. Changing the mass of an object, even temporarily, was a task that required a lot of energy and many students found themselves tired out under the strain of the spell casting. The spells had a high power requirement and not all of the teenagers were up to the task. Harry and Hermione were both amused when Crabbe and Goyle ended up in the hospital wing from draining themselves magically dry. It took a week before they were back in classes.

Many in the school took to greeting Harry as he walked down the corridor and gave him encouraging smiles, Harry had tried at first to respond to everyone but in the end had just fallen back to nodding politely at the well-wishers. It was very confusing considering all that had happened, he wasn't really anything special and the Hufflepuffs especially had reason to have a go at him. But it seemed that something had stirred the populace of the school into a more or less supportive standpoint.

The other champions had turned out to be rather pleasant company for Hermione and her man. Fleur especially, after she had assured Hermione that she wasn't after Harry for the umpteenth time, became a rather close friend of both the young teens. It turned out that she was often ignored or openly disdained by the young women of Beauxbatons who were constantly in a state of jealousy or worry that she would steal their men from them. Boys of course were useless as friends, none of them could resist her allure or the idea of using her as a plaything and those who could resist had jealous girlfriends. So Fleur had been lonely for a long time and being able to spend time with Harry and Hermione had been a welcome respite.

Krum, despite his earlier proclamations had turned out to be something of a disappointment; he was more interested in simply keeping to himself and staying away from the other champions to really make any friends with them. He could often be seen flying over the Quidditch pitch and Hermione had frequently wondered if Harry wanted to join him as Cedric sometimes did. Cedric of course had been someone who both Harry and Hermione had respected, but that respect had quickly turned to something of a more cordial nature when they realized that the pureblood son wanted little to do with Hermione once he learned she was Muggleborn. It was a slap in the face to both of them and Harry had comforted her that night as best he could.

Potions was becoming more and more one of Harry's lessons where he simply relaxed and got on with his work. Potions were neither magically draining nor requiring huge amounts of concentration or effort, merely a correct application of recipe. Snape it seemed had decided that Harry simply did not exist and it made it easier for the raven haired young man to do his work. One day of potions however turned out to be rather shorter than others.

-:-

Harry was labouring tensely over his boiling concoction when the door to the potions lab cracked open and a rather timid Colin Creevey poked his head into the room. Snape's head snapped around so fast Harry thought it might have been spring loaded and the cold sneering voice that came from him sent shivers up Harry's spine.  
>"Why aren't you in class Mr Creevey? And what are you doing here?"<p>

The words were amiable enough but the tone was nothing short of lethal. Colin seemed to cringe before replying in a small voice, "I was sent to take Harry Potter to a meeting."  
>Harry raised an eyebrow at the younger boy who seemed to gain a touch of confidence. "As soon as possible professor."<br>Snape looked like he had something sour in his mouth but simply spoke in a cold tone. "Get out then Potter, twelve inches on the properties of fungal spores in potion making due in this Thursday."

Harry rose quickly and packed his things, briefly squeezing Hermione's hand and shooting her a small smile before following Colin out the door. The pair didn't talk much despite the younger boy's hero worship of him; that was fine by Harry, it gave him time to wonder where they were going and what was going on. It would have been quicker to simply ask the young man walking half a pace ahead of him, but Harry enjoyed the mental puzzle.

They walked for a solid five minutes before they finally reached their destination. Colin gave half strangled sort of sound that might have been a word before dashing off face burning, not for the first time Harry wondered if there was something wrong with the boy. Chuckling he pushed the door open and was greeted by a veritable wall of sound as a dozen or so people greeted him simultaneously with varying forms of enthusiasm.

Fleur was first to glide over and give him a firm hug which he returned fondly, the two had become firm friends despite the French Witch's disdain for Hogwarts and her general haughty demeanour, most of it was an act anyway. Next was a rather tall thin woman with venom green robes and horrific glasses that made his bile rise. He darted around her quickly and followed Fleur into the middle of the room only to have Bagman enthusiastically shake his hand.

"Good to see you, good to see you, now that we have all our champions we can proceed with the weighing of the wands!" The champions all looked at Bagman with an air of impatience, fortunately the ex-seeker caught on quickly.  
>"Nothing to worry about at all, just a measure of your wand to make sure that it's up to scratch, Mr Ollivander here will be personally inspecting the wand of each of the four champions to ensure their suitability and well repair for the tasks ahead."<p>

Harry finally managed to get a good look around the room, the heads were sitting with Barty Crouch behind a long table, opposite them the other two champions, Cedric and Krum, were chatting comfortably only paying slight attention to Bagman. The tall green bedecked woman was standing with a rather rotund man in a corner who was clutching at an old fashioned camera. Finally Mr Ollivander was standing near the window looking, as usual, rather bored by the whole affair. Harry knew that appearances were deceiving however and that the older man was paying careful attention to the goings on.

Ollivander stepped forward when Bagman finished his little spiel and gestured to Fleur. "Ladies first then, if you please my dear?" Fleur obligingly handed her wand to the frail old man, they conversed a few lines and Harry was interested to hear of the core of Fleur's wand, a Veela hair, and one of her grandmother's, which confirmed his and Hermione's suspicions about the ethereally beautiful young woman.

Krum was next, then Cedric. Harry was amused at the pride with which Cedric said he polished his wand. His eyes met Fleur's and they both had to bite back a laugh at the unwitting implication of the Hufflepuff's words. Cedric shot them both a bemused look which only made them shake harder with suppressed laughter. Harry glanced at his own wand, frequent use meant that the handle and shaft of the wand were clean from dust or other blemishes and it had a lacquered look to it. Harry passed his wand to the older man when asked and they passed a few lines of conversation to each other about its continued performance, which Harry was happy to report, was admirable.

The group broke up and Harry and Fleur headed for the door, eager to meet Hermione for lunch, but the thin woman wearing those atrocious robes butted it.  
>"Photos! Photos! We need photos and some interviews for the Prophet." Bagman bounced on his heels and waved her along. "Absolutely, got to give the public their eyeful."<p>

The photos were a joke and eventually Crouch stepped in to speed things up, he had things to do apparently and couldn't leave until the conclusion of the meeting because of some aspect of the Goblet's imposition on the tournament. The interviews were cancelled and Rita, as Harry was informed she was called, had to leave with only her own observations. Harry was more than a little relived as she had been eyeing him somewhat hungrily.

Fleur and Harry left first, eager to get away from the clutches of Bagman. Not only was the ministry man avidly trying to get Harry aside to talk, but he had become grabby with Fleur a couple of times and Harry had stepped in on her behalf to politely tell the man to shove off. As the two were heading towards lunch Fleur raised an interesting point  
>"Have you heard any more about getting special exemption from the tasks Harry?"<p>

Harry was understandably confused. "Special exemption?" he asked.  
>"Yes, as you were entered unfairly into the tournament you should have the opportunity to simply participate the bare minimum in the tasks to progress, and be exempt from the usual restraints. With the understanding that you step aside and to not take the victory at the end there's no reason why you shouldn't be given all the information to push you through these tasks safely."<p>

Harry cottoned on to what she was getting at. "You mean like authorised cheating?" Fleur laughed musically and Harry smiled wryly at having called her out.  
>"Oui, if that is what you want to call it, but I do not care about whether you win or lose, so long as you survive this Harry. We've talked about this."<p>

Harry chuckled himself and shook his head, "I appreciate the sentiment, but I think your headmistress, not to mention Karkaroff, would have trouble with that. Somehow I don't think Crouch would allow it either, he strikes me as a bit of a stickler."  
>"He does at that." She paused a second, glancing at him before continuing, "How are you and Hermione?" Harry raised his eyebrows at that, it was a blunt question and it wasn't in her usual manner to ask something so crude.<br>"We're doing well, why do you ask?"

Fleur looked a little uncomfortable and Harry started to get worried, Fleur, for all her faults, was a forthright person, she would say what was on her mind, even if it took her a roundabout way of getting to it. This hesitancy wasn't like her.  
>"I have heard… rumours, that you are not being entirely faithful."<p>

"What?!" Harry's yelled question stopped Fleur in her tracks, she appeared to be trying to remember something.  
>"One of my classmates told me that a girl from Ravenclaw named… Chang? Yes that was the name, had said she was seeing you behind Hermione's back."<br>Harry was stunned, gobsmacked even, he knew the girl, they had played Quidditch against each other before and he would be lying if he said she wasn't attractive, but cheat on Hermione? Never would he betray her trust and love, even if he had any feelings for the Asian Ravenclaw he wouldn't act on them, he loved Hermione too much to break the bonds they shared.

His voice was flinty when he replied. "No, I've never so much as touched the girl, I thought she was interested in Cedric anyway?" Fleur nodded and her smile returned to her face.  
>"I wouldn't know, perhaps it is their strategy? Make you and Hermione break up so that you will be distracted whilst you prepare for the tasks?"<p>

Harry scoffed, that was the most convoluted plot he'd ever heard, and besides the entire school knew that Harry didn't want to be a part of the tournament and wouldn't be seriously competing. Another point was that it suggested that Cedric was scared of Harry actually beating him despite the huge age and experience difference between the two boys.  
>"Maybe, but if that is their plan then it's laughable, I barely have enough time to spend with Hermione these days, let alone see someone else even if I had wanted to. Besides Hermione knows where I am every night anyway."<p>

Immediately Harry blushed as he realized he'd said too much, Fleur caught on to the titbit and went for the kill. Her innocent sounding voice was laced with humour.  
>"But do you not both sleep in separate dorms? Surely the boy who lived isn't sneaking into his girlfriend's bed at night!"<br>Harry chuckled and answered honestly. "I'm not, don't worry." He smiled mischievously, he had been caught and knew it was time to milk it for all it was worth.  
>"But what's to say she doesn't sneak into mine?"<p>

Fleur gasped dramatically and placed her hand over her mouth with an expression of mock scandal.  
>"Perish the thought Mr Potter, how could you deflower that lovely young woman at such a young age." Harry realized the implication and backpedalled hastily<br>"No, no, no, we've not gone that far yet, we just… look, that's between us, I'll not kiss and tell."  
>Fleur smiled warmly and linked her arm in his casually as they walked along in a friendly fashion<br>"Such a gentleman, now let's go find your lady so we can eat. I'm so hungry I could settle for even your English filth right now."

-:-

The two carried on down the corridors of the castle chatting away happily, when they met Hermione at the Gryffindor table Fleur said in a rather loud tone that made both Hermione and Harry chuckle.  
>"He has been quite the gentleman, hang on to this one Hermione, he is a keeper!"<p>

Harry very much enjoyed the relationship he had with both girls; Hermione was his love, his rock, the place he went to when he needed someone to be there unconditionally for support. They laughed together, they cried together. They were, for want of a better phrase, soul mates. The relationship he shared with Fleur was much lighter, all laughter and joking with an underlying current of affection that both shared in reserved fashion, gentle friendly touches like their linked arms from earlier or an occasional kiss on the cheek from Fleur.

They were innocent chaste gestures of a simple bond of friendship. Neither would push the other for more. Harry was happy with his relationship with Hermione and Fleur who, despite knowing that Harry was a fantastic person, only wanted a strong friendship with the raven haired young man and his girlfriend. She had far too few friendships to squander the strong bond she had with the boy who lived.

For her own part Hermione loved that Harry had another close friend who he could talk to. She knew that he missed Ron terribly and was happy that Fleur could fill the role that the redhead had left vacant. Despite her looks Fleur was very athletic and she and Harry often argued over Quidditch and other sports, even Muggle ones. Despite Hermione's burgeoning interest in Harry's favourite pastime she wasn't nearly as well versed as the French witch and did not begrudge the place that Fleur comfortably filled as Harry's 'best mate'.

Hermione of course finally had a female friend who she could talk to about anything at all. She trusted the French witch completely and they had shared several evenings in the library chatting away as Harry tried to master some spell or other. Fleur was, as was to be expected, a master in all things feminine even alongside her athletic talents and was able to help Hermione tame her unruly hair and generally make her feel better about herself despite the humdrum nature of Hogwarts life. The fact that Harry noticed, and was more than entranced by the changes his girlfriend was making didn't hurt either.

Hermione knew that she would never be the most stunning of witches, she was rather flat chested and her body just didn't have the curves that other girls did, and next to Fleur she felt positively bland. But none of it mattered, because Harry took the time, almost every night, to show her exactly how much he loved her body and she never failed to fall asleep feeling beautiful and loved. She especially liked Harry's massages which proved to be a specialty of his, he seemed to know just where to put his hands to work out all her knots from the day of lugging books all over the gargantuan castle.

-:-

History of Magic continued to be a lesson where Harry caught up on sleep and that was a blessing to the young man as he often used his weekends to spend large amounts of time practising new spells for the tournament. He wasn't sure exactly what he would need in the first task so he and Hermione had taken to spending long hours in the library researching spells that Harry might find useful. Care of Magical creatures had rapidly become a terror and Dumbledore was forced to step in, that lesson in mid-November was one of the most memorable in Hogwarts history.

-:-

Bang! Seamus was thrown off his feet with the front of his shirt scorched away as one of the juvenile skrewts blasted him with its tail. The dark skinned young man went straight into Malfoy who dived out of the way of the hurtling muggleborn, apparently scared of being touched by the young teen. Hagrid was yelling for patience as Harry and Hermione rapidly propelled small rocks at the nearest skrewts keeping it at bay.  
>"Don't hurt them, they don't mean it!"<p>

"I'm afraid Rubeus that this has gotten a little out of control." Hermione glanced over her shoulder and her eyes softened in relief to see Dumbledore standing there wand out and a glint in his eye.  
>"Don't hold back Miss Granger and Mister Potter, we need to put these creatures down."<br>The three of them as well as Seamus and Parvarti, with a reluctant Pansy backing them up, managed to kill the creatures with sorcery. A strange blue-grey ichor splattered as their shells cracked under the force of the sorcels and the creatures let out agonised screeching sounds as they died. Dumbledore himself slaughtered several of the four foot long beasts. They had grown rapidly, far more rapidly than anyone had expected and they were incredibly dangerous. Fortunately they were now also dead.

Hermione felt a little sick as she killed the last of the skrewts and immediately felt Harry's arm wrap around her shoulders, she knew he understood, as foul as the creatures were she hated killing anything let alone Hagrid's pets. As they calmed down from the minor slaughter they turned to see Dumbledore looking sternly at Hagrid who appeared as if he would like nothing more than to retreat back into his cabin.  
>"This has gone on long enough Hagrid, if your lessons don't become more on standard in short order I'll have to find a replacement for you. I don't want to have to, but I will if it's needed."<p>

Hagrid nodded his great shaggy head and simply said "Class dismissed" before heading back indoors. Harry looked a little put out and Hermione slid her arm around his waist kissing his neck softly. "It'll be okay love, Hagrid will sort out his lessons and we'll still have him to chat to during class." She saw Harry nod, and he leaned down to close his lips over hers in a soft kiss. Hermione felt her toes curl as their lips softly moved against each other, she couldn't ever help the feelings that rushed through her when they shared a kiss or even a hug. They were so intimate with each other and she felt loved with even the smallest contact from him.

They turned back toward the castle and passed the Beauxbatons carriage as they headed in. Hermione glanced at it briefly as they passed, it reminded her of the task to come and she was extremely nervous, what was Harry in for? She was broken from her musings as pair of voices were calling out for the pair to wait. Turning around they spotted Daphne Greengrass and her constant companion Tracey Davis jogging to catch them up. Daphne spoke while Tracey nodded along, her tongue seemingly tied.

"We just wanted to thank you two for keeping those horrid creatures off of us. Neither of us are incompetent, but we wouldn't have been able to so flawlessly deal with those… things, so thanks, Harry, Hermione." Hermione was a little stunned. Never, not once, had a Slytherin referred to her by her first name. She stood there open mouthed for a moment before she felt Harry nudge her. Blushing she closed her mouth and demurely deflected the thanks to Harry.

The two girls gave them a last smile before heading back to the castle. Hermione turned to look at Harry only to see a thoughtful expression on his face. She waited, knowing he would tell her when he was ready.

Eventually he opened his mouth to speak, "I think things are going to be different this year. The houses are starting to unite. Why? I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with all the foreigners about." Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't the foreigners that Daphne and Tracey had thanked.

-:-

Astronomy was something of a relaxation period for fourth years, and Hermione often joked that it was rather romantic to spend the evening gazing up at the stars with Harry at her side. He would often remark that it was only romantic until Professor Sinistra made one of her terrible jokes and the entire tower would end up laughing uproariously at something the older lady had said. Arithmancy on the other hand, was something that both teens were quickly coming to love.

The work load for Arithmancy alone was immense, but they still enjoyed tackling the equations and formulae that underpinned the spell casting that they had been learning for years. They were able to work together to unravel the foundations of their world and it was heady for them to have the building blocks of magic in their hands, even if it was only for low level spells.

More and more though Harry was finding that his preparations for the first task were stunted by him having no real idea of what he was getting into. That all changed a week before the first task and it coincided with Sirius finally making an appearance in the year.

-:-

Harry and Hermione were sitting side by side in the Great Hall for breakfast, as was their wont, when the post owls came fluttering in. Hermione received her usual copy of the Daily Prophet, despite the murmurings of dissent from Rita Skeeter about Harry that were already appearing she liked to keep abreast of the news. Harry was a little shocked however when a rather bedraggled owl landed in front of him and stuck it's leg out somewhat moodily waiting for Harry to pry off the little note.

Harry-  
>Common room fireplace, tonight, midnight, alone.<br>-The Dogfather

It was both straight forward and cryptic, straightforward because there was only one person the "Dogfather" could be, cryptic because Harry had no idea how Sirius was going to meet him at the indicated time and place. He passed the note to Hermione who gave him a look suggesting she was wondering the same thing he was. Regardless, the two meandered down to Care of Magical Creatures which was their first lesson of the morning. As they approached they spotted what appeared to be a collection of low cages covered with rugs. Hermione looked at Harry anxiously, and he couldn't help but return the look, what new horror did Hagrid have in store for them today?

As it turned out there was nothing to worry about, the cages contained a very strange creature that Harry had never seen before. It resembled a house cat in structure but was covered in a shiny exoskeleton that looked somewhat chitinous. Their tails also had large stingers that they learned wouldn't bear venom until later in life. Apparently Hagrid had acquired six baby manticores, how no one bothered to ask, but they were all endeared to the small creatures, somehow even Draco couldn't find anything bad to say about the frolicking little creatures. The all listened raptly to Hagrid as he explained that the females of the species were the only ones to have venomous stingers and when they grew their venom sacks about a year before reaching their full maturity they also began experiencing powerful hormone changes that gave them their vicious streak that was so feared. Apparently they were incredibly solitary creatures after their first few years and only as infants were they playful. Males, while they did not produce venom, did have incredibly powerful muscles in their tails which could be used to impale even the tough hide of a troll or giant.

Harry and Hermione thoroughly enjoyed the lesson and just as they were turning to leave Hagrid motioned Harry over.  
>"Meet me at the edge of the forest at about ten tonight would you? Got something to show you, bring your dad's cloak too." Harry made to ask Hagrid what he meant, but the large man shook his head firmly and gestured for Harry to head back to the castle with Hermione. Confused he did so and quickly caught up with his girlfriend who had continued on ahead, and was chatting with a happy Fleur who had come out of the Beauxbatons carriage to walk them back to the castle.<p>

Meeting their questioning looks he simply shrugged and said, "Hagrid wants me to meet him near the forest, told me to bring dad's cloak, I wonder what's going on?"  
>Hermione looked thoughtful but Fleur was just confused, "Why would he want you to take your father's cloak to a meeting?"<br>Harry chuckled and said in an undertone. "Dad left me his invisibility cloak before he died; right useful it's been too." Fleur looked impressed and demanded a demonstration at some point which Harry assured he would give.

-:-

Later as the three of them were relaxing near the lake together eating a picnic lunch Fleur asked in her usual manner. "You mentioned earlier that your cloak has been useful, I assume that's how you two have been sleeping together this year?" Harry choked a little on the sandwich he was swallowing and Hermione patted his back as she eyed the French witch.  
>"How'd you know about that?"<p>

Fleur smiled wryly and nodded at the recovering Harry. "Your man let slip that you knew where he was at night, I put two and two together."

Hermione looked chagrined and Harry was abashed. He'd not told Hermione about that conversation, nevertheless he answered Fleur's question.  
>"Yeah, that's how Hermione's been sneaking into my bed at night, we've used it for a lot more then that though." Fleur raised an eyebrow and Harry blushed at the implication and hastily shook his head as the two girls laughed at him.<br>"No, no, argh, how do you turn what I say around so easily, you don't even need to say anything?"  
>"It's a gift, now tell me, what else have you been up to?"<p>

Harry and Hermione began to tell her of their exploits in the castle over the years. Fleur was amused at the tales and more than a little sceptical, but she held her peace until the end where she simply asked "So it's all true then? No fibs?"  
>Harry shook his head slightly. "No, all true" He was wondering where Fleur was going with this<br>"So you have, to summarize, dealt with a troll, a basilisk, acromantulas, a werewolf and a legion of dementors?"

Harry nodded slowly wondering still what point Fleur was driving at, he was a little surprised when she laughed.  
>"Well why are you worried about a little thing like the Tri Wizard Tournament then? You could probably mop the floor with all of us combined."<br>Harry shook his head ruefully, "I'm sure it won't be as simple as dealing with some kind of creature for each task. Surely they would have more imagination then that!"

-:-

They had DADA after lunch and the two of them made their way quickly up to the corridor where the lessons were held, they arrived just as the other four were entering and quickly slipped in behind them. They were eager for the day's class, Moody had finally pronounced the class proficient with Kinetic sorcels last Thursday and they were moving on to something new today. As they entered and took their seats around the room Moody beckoned Harry into the middle as usual.

"Right then, quiet down, quiet down. For the last two months Potter here has been working on a bit of extra credit for me. So far I've taught you all the jab and cut sorceries, which are fairly basic low level sorcels that nonetheless do the job. What I asked Harry to do was to go aside and develop new sorcels and create one for himself that was his own unique creation, you might have seen some of his work last month in the duelling ring."

The other five students nodded eagerly and even Hermione was rapt with attention, Harry had gently refused to teach her his secrets just yet, explaining that he would share them with her eventually.

Moody continued, "To do this Potter will have experimented with different foci, tell us all what you tried Potter." Hermione watched Harry's back straighten somewhat as he began speaking.  
>"Sir, at first I tried conventional medieval weapons, spears, hammers, axes etc. Most didn't make any noticeable difference to the sorcels so I branched out looking for more interesting items. I remembered some Muggle weapons from the occasional movie I've seen over the years and tried a grenade which gave favourable results. Additionally I've found that a rocket, while effective is very dangerous as I have to cast it at something sufficiently far enough from me that I'm not caught in the back-blast."<p>

Moody nodded along and Hermione was aware of what he was talking about, but none of the other Gryffindors had a clue. Moody seemed to notice this and with a wave of his wand conjured a target for Harry to demonstrate on. Harry discussed something with the professor and Moody conjured several more, some in a circle and others in a cluster. Harry walked to the centre of the circle to demonstrate this 'Grenade'.

He spoke before he did so, "This is what I'm coming to call a repulsion sorcel, if I feed enough magic into it then it has the power to break apart some targets with the force of the blast."

Harry assumed a duelling posture then, bringing his hand forwards, he first pointed his wand straight down, then flicked it up and out quite quickly, all of a sudden the target dummies were blasted backwards off their stands and landed a few meters from the boy in each direction. Moody looked impressed, he'd improved since the duels. The other students, Hermione included were clapping rather enthusiastically it was impressive wand work.

"Very impressive Potter, why don't you explain to us all how you did that."Harry gave a short nod before speaking.  
>"I figured out what the Muggle grenades were doing, that is that they were making a spherical wave of force that rapidly expanded. To emulate this without having to imagine the grenade's explosion each time, I'm simply visualising a white circle becoming suddenly bigger, maybe two or three times so. That seems to do the job."<p>

Moody raised a hand and smiled his lopsided, scary smile. "I'm going to stop you there Potter, see what he's done? Instead of using an object as the focus he's instead using a concept, in reality what he's done here is create a broadband kinetic sorcel that happens extremely rapidly. I'm impressed Potter, alright this second one then."

Harry nodded tightly again and took aim at the targets closer to the wall, adopting the stance again he pointed his wand over his shoulder first, then snapped it forwards to point at the targets. All of a sudden there was a burst of sound that made everyone wince in pain at the intensity and the dummies clustered together were simply obliterated. Their limbs were ripped off and the heads collapsed in on themselves. Some of the torsos were even ripped in half. The class was silent after Harry's demonstration. Eventually Moody found his voice.  
>"That's… extremely impressive Potter. How did you achieve that result?"<p>

Hermione leaned forward in her seat, Harry's sorcel had perfectly replicated a high explosive rocket and she was extremely curious as to how he'd come up with the sorcel to do it.  
>"It actually took a lot of experimenting, it turned out that simply imagining the explosion wasn't enough, I needed to think of a motion or object that I was able to get in my head and think about each time. In the end it was similar to the repulsion sorcery, but instead of an expanding white sphere, I imagine a ball of metal spikes blasting out in every direction. I obviously wouldn't use this in a practise or tournament duel."<p>

Moody shook his head and replied gruffly, "The training wands wouldn't let you hurt someone, likely what you would see if you used this sorcery with one of them is a reduced effect, perhaps your repulsion sorcel at range rather than around you, what do you call this sorcery Potter?"

"A blasting sorcel sir." Moody nodded once more then raised an eyebrow, "I saw you use one more in those duels, a sort of sweeping motion, and then what you were targeting would be hit with an extreme broadband force. What was that?"  
>Harry waved his wand and brought one of the dummies to its stand. With a quick motion he cast his sledgehammer sorcel and the dummy's chest collapsed.<br>"I just use a large hammer as the focus sir, nothing special." Moody nodded before addressing the class at large.  
>"Aside from the extreme nature of Potter's creations what can we take away from this?"<p>

The class looked blank for a second before Seamus nervously spoke, "That creating new Sorceries is actually quite easy? It just relies on creativity."

Moody exclaimed, "Yes! Exactly! Fifteen points to Gryffindor, your arsenal in a fight is only as large as your imagination! Get as many foci in your mind as you can, weapons, motions, imitations of effects. Broaden your repertoire of spells as much as possible, because in a real fight, a fight to the death, will be brutal. It will be fast, and you won't have a chance to think about what you're doing. You have to be acting without thinking, battle has to be instinctual. You absolutely have to be able to cast and recast without having to stop and think about what to do next. You have to have chains of sorceries or spells ready to cast in your mind. You have to know where your cover is and how far away you are from it. How much room you have to move, and what kinds of opponents you're going up against. Are they simple thugs who're just interested in the Galleons in your bag? Are they Death Eaters who're going to throw a whole host of curses at you and use vicious sorceries that make your body wish it was dead? All of this has to be instant, and that's what we're going to begin learning next."

The class was as usual, rapt with attention and everyone was on the edge of their seats listening in.  
>"You know enough about sorcels, you're all quick learners and this is a small class. From now on you need to keep practising, expand your repertoire, get a hold of any and all ideas and try them out. What I can teach you now isn't spell casting or sorcery, but rather awareness. Knowing what your situation is and how to react, without having to think about it. Potter here is a natural, but it's a skill that can be learned."<p>

And so with that Moody began his lectures, for the first time in months only Harry and Moody drew their wands that lesson. The whole class took notes getting a rough idea of what Moody was trying to impart and when the class broke up for the day it was with the promise of situation training the next day, everyone was both excited and nervous. But what had Harry and Hermione on edge was the looming first task and Sirius' meeting with Harry later that night, as well as Hagrid's request.

-:-

At half past nine Harry left the common room wearing his father's cloak to head down to Hagrid's; he was curious and nervous at the same time. Fortunately with the Marauder's Map and the Cloak Harry was able to avoid trouble and slip out into the night. The Scottish weather had begun to cool dramatically as the year wore on and it was bitterly cold that night, and pitch dark. Harry was, fortunately, guided by the lights of the Beauxbatons carriage and made his way down past Hagrid's cabin to meet him by the treeline.

He spotted the gamekeeper standing nervously by the forest gate with a somewhat spiffy (for Hagrid's standards) suit and tie on. He'd even slicked back his hair with what looked like grease. Harry nudged his friend's shoulder and Hagrid jerked around nervously, nearly decking Harry with one of his shovel like hands.  
>"Harry? Is that you?"<p>

Harry laughed slightly and Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief. Harry wondered what Hagrid wanted to show him and as about to ask when a loud voice rang through the trees.  
>"Monsieur Hagrid? Where are you?"<br>Harry couldn't believe his ears, or his eyes, as Hagrid gained a misty eyed expression and called back,  
>"Over here Olympe!"<p>

Madame Maxime walked gracefully towards the man and Hagrid took her arm leading them into the trees. "Got something to show you tonight, you're going love it."  
>Harry was a little confused, and more than little angry. What was Hagrid playing at? But he wouldn't have just brought Harry along for no reason so he dutifully followed along behind, trying hard not to gag at the sweetness emanating from the larger man. Eventually they heard loud roars and Harry's blood ran cold, that sounded very… big.<p>

All of a sudden they broke through what appeared to be an invisibility ward and Harry nearly cried out in shock at the sight of four humongous dragons, and to his continued shock Hagrid called out  
>"Charlie, you around?" Harry's eyes widened as the second Weasley son moved into the ring of torches to talk to Hagrid.<br>"What're you doing here Hagrid? You know you're not supposed to be back here."

Harry thought that Hagrid looked distinctly shifty as he said, "Well I thought I'd show Olympe the dragons, you know the love I have for them. I thought that she might be the same, y'know?" Madame Maxime wasn't listening however, Harry noticed that she had a distinctly sharp expression on her face, calculating, and Harry's suspicions were confirmed as Hagrid asked, "Just these four then?"

Charlie looked sidelong at Olympe before shrugging. "Yeah, one for each of the champions. Mum's having kittens about Harry being involved I promised I'd send her a letter at the end of the first task." Harry was backing away and didn't hear anything more, dragons, the first task was dragons. He felt like he was going to be sick.

-:-

He got back to Gryffindor tower just before midnight and sat on the couch in the common room, panting heavily from his run back to the tower, it had taken longer than Harry had thought to get all the way back as he had needed to avoid several teachers who were patrolling. As he recovered his breath he heard a voice he'd not heard for several months.  
>"Harry? Why do you look so worn out?"<br>"Sirius!"

There with his head sitting merrily in the flames of the fireplace, was Sirius Black, Harry's godfather.

Harry sat up straighter and looked down at the man. "Where are you?"  
>Sirus chuckled "I'm using the services of an abandoned house in Hogsmeade. It's strange, I never would have thought that they wouldn't have taken the Shrieking Shack off the floo network."<p>

Harry raised an eyebrow, "You're in Hogsmeade? Shouldn't you be sunning yourself on a beach somewhere far away from the ministry?"  
>That infuriating chuckle again, "What? And leave my Godson to deal with the Tri Wizard tournament on his own?"<br>Harry smiled and he had to admit that he felt better with Sirius so close. "Tell me what's been going on Harry, and don't leave anything out, I want to hear it all."

So it was that Harry talked freely with his godfather for several hours, filling him in on everything from the dream/vision he had earlier that summer, staying with Hermione, the Quidditch World Cup, coming back to Hogwarts. He let it all pour out. When he was done Sirius looked distinctly uncomfortable.  
>"Harry I want you to be careful this year, something is happening, and Voldemort is clearly on the move. This Valmortis character you talked about sounds vicious, and I wouldn't be surprised at all if he was who got your name into the goblet, how I wouldn't know, but it happened and now we have to deal with it. I'll try to get news to you when I can via owl. Feel free to send Hedwig if you need anything, the owls often roost in the shrieking shack so it won't look strange. Now I need to go before my knees fall off. We'll talk about this more after the first task okay? Get some sleep."<p>

Harry said goodbye to Sirius and the man left the floo leaving Harry feeling a bit empty. The revelation that swept through his mind was immediate and obvious, how had he not seen it at all? The Death Eater from the Cup very clearly had something in for him and it wouldn't surprise Harry at all if Valmortis had indeed entered Harry into the tournament. The tournament! Dragons, how on earth was he going to deal with one of those?

Harry got little sleep that night as he wracked his brain trying to come up with a plan.

-:-

Breakfast was abandoned that morning as Harry insisted that he and Hermione go and meet Fleur at the carriage as early as possible. So at seven o'clock that morning the two of them found themselves in the cold waiting for the French witch who had answered their knocking on the carriage door to get Fleur. Hermione was starting to get a little antsy, Harry had dragged her out into the cold without an explanation, to see another witch. If she was a jealous woman Hermione might have thought he wanted Fleur's company more. But she knew that he would have a good reason for this, so she waited.

Eventually Fleur opened the door and, after closing it, sat on the lip of the carriage doorstep where the stairs unfolded from, her legs dangling in the cold air. Harry immediately spoke and what he said made Hermione yelp in surprise and Fleur's eyes widen in shock.  
>"Dragons, the first task is dragons, they have one for each of us."<p>

Hermione's eyes were locked on Harry; she knew her mouth was wide open, but she didn't have the presence of mind to close it. How was he going to deal with a dragon? A thought came to mind  
>"Was this what Hagrid showed you last night?" She watched him nod and he looked at Fleur<br>"Your Headmistress was with him, she knows about them as well, but I didn't want to count on her telling you. I'll try and find Cedric later today if you can talk to Krum? I don't know who knows, but we need to make this an even playing field."

Fleur smiled at him and took his hand in their usual affectionate, but friendly manner. Her voice was slightly throaty as she replied "Thank you Harry, I don't know what I would have done otherwise, I certainly would have been woefully underprepared." She got a twinkle in her eye and then she laughed musically.  
>"So much for them being imaginative huh Harry? It looks like all you need to do is beat a dangerous creature!"<p>

The three of them took a moment to have a laugh and it cleaned a lot of the stress out from between them at the news.

Harry looked thoughtful, "I can't imagine we have to kill the dragon, they're rare enough as it is, besides that I can't see how any of us could achieve that. No I'd say more likely we have to get past it or get something from it."

Fleur looked thoughtful but nodded. "I agree, there's no way they would have us kill one of the beasts. Perhaps you are right and all we need to do is get around it, for one reason or other, how then, distraction?"  
>Hermione saw a glint enter Harry's eye and she felt her knees tremble slightly. She knew that look. It was the look he got when he had a really stupid idea.<p>

"Well I don't know about you, but having a firebolt and being the youngest seeker in a century has to count for something. I'm going to outfly it."  
>Fleur, to Hermione's great amusement, nearly keeled over in shock, her slightly outraged tones met their ears a moment later<br>"Are you mad? It'll have you for breakfast! Non! I am not losing my good friend because he was an idiot."

Hermione, despite her reluctance to let Harry try it, knew that Fleur didn't have a leg to stand on. She'd not seen Harry fly and while she understood that this was risky, there was no way for him to learn anything else that would even come close to working in the week they had. That said, there was a problem.  
>"Fleur, usually I'd agree with you, but this time I think he has the right of it. There's no way we can get him proficient enough in a week to even have a hope with a different strategy, but there's a problem. Harry you're not allowed your broom with you into the task."<p>

Harry cursed slightly but Fleur looked thoughtful. "But you are allowed a wand Harry, why not just summon your broom to you?"  
>Hermione could have clapped a hand to her face, so stupidly simple, a summoning charm would be perfect. Unfortunately that was sixth year work. Harry it seemed had come to the same conclusion.<br>"So I need to learn a summoning charm by this time next week? Okay… Hermione I think we're going to have to put some of our Homework on hold."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, yes they would at that.

-:-

They had discussed the topic at length and Fleur had decided to use a slightly safer method, (for her anyway) and use a variety of small charms cast extremely quickly to tether the dragon down, targeting its wings and ears, pulling it down by its less muscular and more vulnerable points that would be painful to strain against and give her enough time to dash past it. Harry and Fleur were both happy with their strategies and they simply had to practise.

One thing that still weighed on Harry's mind was the fact that Cedric and Krum didn't know about the task yet. Fleur had agreed to track down Krum and Harry simply had to find Cedric. And it turned out that it was simple. He spotted Cedric later that day leaving the Transfiguration room and dashed to catch up with him.  
>"Cedric, wait a second would you?"<p>

The older boy turned and smiled at seeing Harry and waited for the younger lad to approach. Harry didn't mess around and went straight to the point.  
>"Dragons, the first task are dragons. I reckon we have to get past one." Cedric looked understandably shocked and asked in an undertone, "You're sure?"<p>

Nodding fervently Harry replied. "Yes, absolutely sure, Fleur knows, and she said she'd find Krum to tell him, but if you spot him first make sure he knows okay?"  
>Cedric nodded and walked off looking lost, Harry understood the feeling. It had been the same for him last night. Hermione was still in Ancient Runes so Harry went to go back to the common room to start practising the summoning charm that Hermione had found at lunch time, but he was stopped by the sight of Draco Malfoy and his cronies standing in his way in the middle of the corridor.<p>

"Look boys, its Saint Potter the Half Blood. What do you say we rough him up a bit, I hear the Mudbloods like the 'recently beaten' look."  
>Harry didn't think he just acted. It was what Moody had alluded to the previous day. Harry had extremely good battle sense, he knew exactly what he had to do and when he had to do it. Seeing Crabbe and Goyle moving forwards and Malfoy already throwing a spell his way he reacted on instinct, his hand snapping up to catch the dark green spell on his duellist's shield. He snapped his wand out and with a flourish bound Crabbe and Goyle in ropes.<p>

With those two out of the way he really let rip, casting spell after spell at Malfoy. Going on the offensive and not relenting, he refrained from using sorcels, he had his real wand in his hand and despite his hatred of the pureblood he didn't want him dead. Harry was well aware of the power of his sorcery.

If Harry had been expecting Malfoy to just roll over and play dead he was very mistaken. The blond boy gave as well as he got and the corridor was filled with vivid blasts of light as they exchanged spells. Harry had the upper hand however as his casting was slightly quicker, and he tended to rely on his duellists shield as well rather than a shield charm meaning he could send more spells downrange.

Everything ground to an abrupt halt however as a broadband shield ward sprung up between the two. Harry kept his eyes on the boy, Crabbe and Goyle still bound on the floor, as a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. Looking back he saw Moody's grizzled face looking sternly at him.

"Any reason why you're trying to kill each other Potter?" Harry shook his head and slid his wand into his pocket.  
>"No sir, you should ask Malfoy, he and his two gorillas started this." Moody looked down his crooked nose at Harry a second before stumping forwards to Malfoy who had a look of rage on his face.<br>"Care to explain Mr Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head tightly, Moody looked at him a second before lowering his ward and turning to Harry.  
>"Fifteen points from both of you for duelling in the corridors, now be on your way, the both of you."<br>Harry turned to leave but felt something whoosh past his ear and a roar of outrage came from behind him.

He spun on the spot ready to retaliate only to see Malfoy out for the count on the ground, Moody standing over him. "You alright Potter?"

"Yes sir, what did he do sir?" Moody growled.  
>"He cast a sorcel at you the moment your back was turned, looked like a jab, but it could have been anything. He had his gloves off for that one too; the look of rage in him was quite visible, filthy coward."<p>

Harry heard footsteps coming from behind him and turned to see Professor McGonagall rushing down the corridor from her classroom. How she only just heard the racket Harry had no idea.  
>"Alastor? Mr Potter? What's going on?"<br>Moody glanced at McGonagall before saying, "Bit of duelling in the corridors, broke it up and sent them on their way, moment Potter's back was turned Malfoy throws a jab sorcel at him. It's a good thing he missed as he was aiming at Potter's head. "

Harry's blood ran cold as he realized then just how close to being killed he had been. He eyed Malfoy speculatively, had the young man changed so much in such a short time that he was already willing to kill? Or had it been a spur of the moment assault of rage? For her part McGonagall gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. Gently she pushed on Harry's shoulder, he got the message, 'go, we'll deal with this'. So Harry headed back to the common room his chest tight with the shock of what had just happened, and the consequences for Malfoy.

-:-

The week passed quickly from there, Malfoy was taken into custody by aurors but to everyone's frustration and disbelief had been released from custody after questioning. No one said it but everyone knew that Lucius had leaned on the Minister to have Draco released without charge. For his part he did end up with four months of detentions with Filtch, and while that punishment would certainly go a long way to making up for the injustice, it wasn't enough and Harry still had a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he thought about it.

Harry mastered the Accio charm two days before the task and from there simply made sure that he had the range necessary to get his firebolt from the castle from a variety of places around the grounds. It turned out that Harry was more than strong enough to summon his broom to him even from opposite sides of the lake. More than happy with his progress he and Hermione spent the Saturday before the task relaxing together. Harry more than deserved it for tomorrow he would be battle dragons.

-:-

The common room was mostly empty as people were out and about doing things on their Saturday afternoon, Harry and Hermione ended up cuddled together on the couch in front of the fire. They were no longer shy about their relationship in front of others, a few weeks into the school term had proved that the entire house had been waiting for them to finally get together and were happy for them. Fred and George were especially hilarious to be around and despite their continued grief at Ron's passing and Ginny's betrayal they were still the ebullient jokers of the past.

Hermione was curled up with her back against Harry's chest and his arms looped around her waist. She felt safe like this, with his protective arms encircling her. The fact that his lips were blazing a lazy trail down her throat didn't hurt either. Soft sounds of encouragement came from her lips as he pressed little kisses over her skin. It had been a long time since they had been relaxed enough to simply sit and spend a day cuddling together, after their run that morning they had returned to the common room and hadn't left since.

She thought back across the previous months, how she and Harry had gotten closer and closer. That they were sleeping together and woke every morning in each other's arms certainly helped. They were intimate on a regular basis too, often taking the time to give each other pleasure either in the wee hours of the morning or late at night while the castle was asleep. She felt tingles run through her at the memory of Harry's new game of seeing how undone he could make her with only his tongue. He had kissed her _everywhere_.

She shivered at the memory and giggled as Harry's hands slipped down over her thighs and tugged her back against him, she felt her bum press hard against his groin and grinned as she felt him pressing between the cheeks of her arse. His whisper in her ear nearly drove her to distraction.  
>"See what you do to me Hermione? You're beautiful, and I love you."<p>

The endearment was a bit of a surprise, they didn't often share sweet nothings these days and when they did she would often find it was because something was on his mind. This instance was no different as she found out a second later.  
>"I've been thinking about Christmas love, and how we'll be going home to see mum and dad."<br>This was a new development as well, Harry had finally gotten confident enough to start referring to his adopted parents as such in casual conversation. It was a little weird the first few times but they got over it.

She snuggled back against him and tilted her head back to kiss the underside of his jaw. "What about Christmas love?"  
>Harry seemed to gather himself before replying, "Well, I'd really like to go to church with you guys for the service."<p>

Hermione was a little stunned, they'd talked about this before and Harry had been fairly certain that he wasn't going to be interested in the religious side of Christmas. The Dursley's had never taken him to church and it wasn't a part of his life. She wondered what had changed and asked him as much.  
>"I realized just now while I was thinking about it that it must be important to you. You have a brilliant mind and if you thought it was so much as pokey then I'm sure you'd have discarded it fairly quickly. But you have faith in this God of yours and that makes me think it's probably worth looking into."<p>

Hermione turned in his arms, her eyes prickling slightly. She was overwhelmed with happiness at this and couldn't help but kiss him soundly.  
>"Thank you Harry, truly, you have no idea how much this means to me." She sighed happily as he kissed her back and ran his fingers lightly through her now wavy hair.<br>"It's my pleasure sweetheart. I love you."  
>She nuzzled into his neck and breathed in deeply, on the exhale she breathed, "I love you too Harry."<p>

Later that night as she was laying in Harry's arms she helped him say a prayer for the next day, asking for God to look over him in the coming task. She couldn't believe how patient and earnest he was about it all and afterwards he took her hands in his and spoke quietly to her.  
>"Hermione, I just want to reassure you, I'll be fine tomorrow, and I'll come back to you. Not just because of a prayer or because of all the practise we've been doing; but because I'm Harry fucking Potter, and no dragon is going to stand between me and my happiness with you. Now get some sleep, I'll need you awake and cheering for me tomorrow."<p>

She chuckled at him and slapped his shoulder at his language, but as they fell asleep together she couldn't help but agree, he _was_ Harry fucking Potter and she wouldn't have him any other way.

-:-

AN2: So here's a chapter… It's insanely late. I'll try not to let this happen again but I can't promise anything. I can however promise that the story will be finished by June.

AN3: I hope this chapter is up to standard, my beta reader appears to have forgotten about our arrangement, if she gets back to me with the edited chapter I'll reupload but for the moment this will have to do.

AN4: Review Responses

Rimtuuk: Thanks, and yes Ginny will appear again, although I'll keep mum about just how

Starboy: Thanks!

Schnookums: Harry won't be getting out of the tournament, the way he goes about it will be somewhat different for most of the time though. As for everything else… you'll just have to wait and see!

Lisbeth lou Who: Thanks! And yeah he will eventually as for compulsion… nahh

Lightningblade: Oh the puffs are still grumpy they're just too nice to openly have a go at him.

Anotherboarduser: As I've said before, my Dumbledore actually has reasons for the things he does, they might not always be reasons everyone likes, but they are legitimate reasons. I see what you're getting at, but I think you'll find in time that there are good reasons why they don't even bother to think of guns. You'll just have to be patient and wait and see. I know this sounds like a cop out, but at the end of the day if I wanted to write a story about people gunning down other people, I wouldn't be writing down HP fanfiction. Maybe somewhere down the line I write a story with gunplay in it, but it is not this story!

Lady-Isowen: Hmmm yes Ginny shall return if only briefly.

God of all: Sorry for the wait, sometimes, despite the fact that I know exactly what I want to write and where the story needs to go, I just don't feel in the mood for writing. But I shall do my best to keep updating regularly

Vegasman: Harry will do the best with what he has, but he isn't out to win, he's seen people killed already, his classmates are disappearing, people have nearly killed him three times he's wary of this tournament and he just wants to get out of it alive.

Delightfully sinful: Hue, yeah we all like a good overpowered Harry. But My Harry will overcome his difficulties not from sheer power, or overwhelming talent, but through determination perseverance and skill.

Beyondthesea: Neville was raised not to question women of authority, and like it or hate it Ginny acts like she has authority, she is extremely domineering (mostly from Molly) and she has a powerful personality, just not a lot of brains, Neville's instincts would be to just let her walk all over him, he doesn't have confidence in himself yet. As for the Dursleys, yeah I wanted them out of the picture for this story. Part of me was toying with the idea of taking things a different route and having Vernon not agree to handing over Harry as the police couldn't find enough evidence to put him away. So Harry, despite finding his best chance at a real family is torn away from them…. Then I remembered I was writing tragedy not angst.

Dante: o.o The size of this review though… *Cracks knuckles* alright let's dive in  
>yeah… a few times I've wondered about making sorcery totally wandless, and honestly I don't have a really good reason why except that I need it to be wanded as a literary device, else anyone with any kind of skill would never be able to be bound or captured, they could escape easily.<p>

The idea of Sorcery being invisible is a bit of a misnomer, and will be explained later, it's just the way moody is teaching it to the youngsters. Expect a better explanation in 4-5 chapters.

Why shouldn't Ginny be off her rocker? She's been indoctrinated since she could understand speech that Harry is the one she will marry someday, she has a deep seated crush for him that goes beyond normal means and on top of that, in her first year she is possessed by a horcrux which (As we have come to understand) will feed her deepest desires and fears until they dominate her personality, she had that book for nearly a year pouring her soul into it, that changes a person and it made her distinctly less sane. Add all of that to the fact that the first person she sees after nearly Dying at Riddle's hands is her crush? Just throwing fuel on the fire.

Other then that I think I covered everything in the chapter…. Oh… Elrond's council… yeah didn't even think of those parallels, ah well.

TJK: Sorry it's late, but here you go!

As always thanks for reading + other shenanigans. Love you all and see you next time.


	11. Conversations and a Dragon

AN: I don't own the HP universe etc etc you get the idea

-:-

Conversations and a Dragon

The morning of the first task dawned bright and early; a little too early where Hermione Granger was concerned. She would have preferred to stay in bed with her beloved for a few more hours, but Harry wanted to get down to breakfast early so that he wouldn't get a stitch when he needed to start flying. As Harry moved around behind her she flung a hand backwards and grabbed his arm mumbling for him to stay. She was slightly disappointed when he gently removed her hand and kissed the back of her neck. She wished he was less driven sometimes.

Hermione murmured in appreciation as his lips pressed softly against hers. She groped blindly hoping to catch an arm, but missed. Annoyed she flopped back down, and let him know of her disgruntlement with a huff. She heard his soft laughter as he pulled the hangings shut on his four poster bed. The other boys were still very much asleep and she would have time to shuffle back to her own dorm. She could hear Harry scuffling around, getting dressed and hitching his Firebolt up on his shoulder.

His hand slipped under the hangings and she felt it caress her cheek for a moment, and then he was gone. Hermione huffed again and pulled on the cloak. She would dash back to her dorm as she did every morning, but today she would get some more sleep. It was barely seven and she didn't need to be up till nine. Harry would understand; he was so good to her.

Quietly she rushed back to her dorm and closed the hangings around her bed. Fortunately all the girls were still sleeping. She snuggled down into her bed sheets and wondered absently about Harry, he was so sweet and thoughtful all the time, often he would go out of his way to make her comfortable even if it meant he would be in an awkward pose all night or have sore hands in the morning from having worked out the horrific knots in her back muscles.

She couldn't wait until they were away from all of this and when they could finally settle down she would be happy. That brought another thought to mind, what kind of job would he want? Would he want to work together with her or have his own pursuits? Would he even want to work at all? She couldn't blame him if he just wanted to stay at home and look after their children. Children? Where had that thought come from? She smiled to herself as she realized she really didn't mind, the concept of having little Harry's and Hermione's running around was something she could handle with no trouble at all.

That meant marriage of course, and a home. She knew Harry was already thinking along these lines and while she wasn't the girly kind who would enjoy writing 'Hermione Potter' all over her work books she could understand the appeal. She fell asleep thinking about her life together with a certain raven haired champion.

-:-

Harry's morning was significantly less pleasant. His mind was wracked with nerves, and yes he had dealt with worse, and yes he was Harry sodding Potter, but this was a DRAGON. Thankfully he had a couple of hours to psyche himself up. The walk to the Great Hall was quiet, but he had a pleasant surprise waiting for him at the Gryffindor table. As he sat down next to the pretty French witch he felt her lips press against his cheek in a chaste early morning kiss.

He turned and looked her over as they sat in companionable silence. She was wearing practical clothes, much like him, clearly ready for a fight. Her blue eyes were lightly appraising him, smiling slightly he spoke with soft hushed tones.  
>"I'm okay, I'm mostly just worried about whether my broom can get into the stadium or not with the wards I'm sure they'll have up. Fortunately as a champion I should be keyed into them as a safety precaution."<p>

Fleur nodded sharply, "Yes that sounds right. Are you sure you're okay? I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through." Harry nodded and started pulling dishes of food closer so that he could load up his plate.  
>"I'm fine, a little nervous, but who wouldn't be. I guess at the end of the day this sort of thing is old hat for me, going into dangerous situations with only a half-cocked plan and relying on my instincts. It's sort of my speciality. Hermione's been a big help too, she is a constant source of strength for me."<p>

Fleur looked towards the entrance to the Great Hall questioningly, "Where is she? I would have thought you wouldn't be able to pry her away from you so close to the task." Smiling Harry started digging into his food and answers between bites.  
>"I love that about Hermione, if she's still sleepy you can be damn sure she's going to have a lie in come rain or shine. Only classes can get her out of bed or morning exercise. Or breakfast in bed, she enjoys that. But she doesn't feel the need to cling to me, we're comfortable knowing that at the end of the day I'm here in the Great Hall, waiting for her and she knows full well that I'll stay here till she arrives. I'm happy to give her the time to relax, just because I'm stressed doesn't mean she should be too."<p>

Fleur looked a little out of sorts by that proclamation, "But surely you want her close before you face the dragon?" Harry laughed openly then startling the few others who were in the hall.  
>"Why? To give myself a reason to believe that I might not come back from this? No, continuing life as normal as possible is the best way to keep myself properly calm. If we suddenly start treating this like I might not be able to see her again then it'll only make things worse. I can beat this task; I'll beat it and be back home in time for dinner as they say."<p>

Fleur looked gobsmacked, or at least as gobsmacked as a Veela could look. She opened her mouth to speak before closing it again looking slightly chagrined.  
>"That's actually an incredibly mature viewpoint Harry." Harry didn't have anything to say to that and the pair of them sat in companionable silence together for a few more minutes before Harry spoke again.<br>"Have you got your plan ready?" Fleur looked at him with confidence now, a steely glint in her eye that made Harry grin.

"You bet your cute English bum I have my plan ready, do you think I'd willingly walk into a Dragon's den without one?" Harry chuckled at her words and reached over to squeeze her hand softly with his own.  
>"Of course not Fleur, you're just like my Hermione, plan everything in advance right?" He let her hand go before nodding at the mug in her other hand.<br>"How's your coffee?"

He and Hermione had discovered much to their chagrin that Fleur was a devout coffee drinker, many mornings they had come down to breakfast only to be assailed by the pungent aroma of coffee, Harry and Hermione were both tea drinkers and the smell of the black coffee that Fleur drank was something they quickly had to acclimatise to as Fleur refused to have anything else with her breakfast.

"It's good thank you Harry, would you like a sip?" Harry shivered involuntarily and shook his head.  
>"No, no thank you that will be quite all right. I was just enquiring to be polite." Fleur's soft laugh made Harry smile. He loved the easy camaraderie they shared. They sat in comfortable conversation for nearly two hours at which point Hermione finally joined them at the table softly kissing Harry on the cheek as she sat down. Harry gently pushed a plate of food towards her, her usual breakfast, and she smiled at him before cancelling the warming charm he had placed and digging in.<p>

-:-

Hermione couldn't help, but have her gaze be attracted to the gigantic set of grandstands. The wards were a palpable force, physical and powerful, the pulse of magic throbbed below her skin like a second heartbeat while she was near them. The sheer power on display was staggering; it was like being next to Harry when he really let loose with his sorcery.

Her current goal wasn't the stands however, but rather the tent that abutted them on this side. On the other side was the medical tent where she assumed the champions would end up at the end of the task. She quickly moved over to the side of the tent and by reaching out with her magic she identified Harry's location and moved to where he was.

It was a trick the two had stumbled across as they experimented with sorcery, by opening themselves up to the ether around them they could identify different people with their magic; they quickly learned each other's magical signatures so that they could easily find each other in crowds or in the dark. Now she used it to find Harry and gently tap on the canvas behind him.

"Harry? Are you there Love?" Hermione sighed with relief when he responded quickly.  
>"Right here sweetheart, shouldn't you be up in the stands?" Hermione wished she could push the canvas aside and leap into his arms but there was no way through, she settled for the spoken word.<br>"I'll go soon, I just want to remind you that I love you Harry, with everything I have. You come back to me you hear?"  
>She could almost hear his smile as he spoke, "I love you too, don't worry about me. It's this dragon that's going to have a bad day."<p>

Hermione dithered for a moment uncharacteristically before dashing towards the stands, happy that Harry had at least heard her once more before the bout to come.

-:-

Harry appreciated Hermione's support and her thoughtfulness, coming to give him her well wishes before he leapt literally into the dragon's den. It was a huge boost to his morale and it straightened his back. He sighed though; he would have liked a hug before he had to go. As if on cue a pair of slim arms wrapped around him from the side and clung tight for a moment. They moved to let go, but Harry wrapped Fleur up in a tight hug.  
>"You be safe for me too okay? I need my first real friend in one piece. I love you as well Harry, not quite in the same way as Hermione, but I do; you're family now you hear? You will have more than one pissed off witch coming for you if you don't come back in one piece."<p>

Harry nodded and swallowed thickly, he was amazed at how frequently blessed he was these days. Hermione, Emma, Dan, and now Fleur, they all claimed to love him and he believed them, he loved them back too. They parted with one last stern look from Fleur, and Harry glanced around the tent to size up his competition. Krum looked stoic and Harry nodded to the Bulgarian briefly, their eyes met and a sense of understanding passed between them, Krum saw him as an equal, a true competitor, never mind his age or inexperience Krum respected Harry's strength of character, and the feeling was mutual.

Harry's gaze moved on to Cedric who looked, frankly, like he wanted to throw up. Harry still hadn't forgiven the Hufflepuff for his disdain of Hermione and Fleur. It wasn't obvious, but the Hufflepuff boy seemed to hold himself in higher esteem than the only female champion. Harry privately thought that a good strong dose of terror would do the boy good; his pureblood leanings would not help him against a dragon.

And of course there was Fleur, he respected the Veela witch and knew for a fact that he would be cheering for her regardless of his own interest in the competition. Harry was still on tenterhooks on whether he actually wanted to contend for the title, part of him thought that keeping his head down and getting through the tasks as safely as possible, or withdrawing from a task if he got the chance, was honestly his best bet. The stronger, more Gryffindor side however was champing at the bit to show the foreigners and Cedric exactly what he was made of.

He was broken sharply from his musings as the ever boisterous Bagman and his subdued companion Mr. Crouch. They were followed by the heads, but Rita Skeeter and her photographer were suspiciously absent. The ex-beater explained the terms of the task and the goal to collect a Golden Egg, with which they would proceed in the tournament. Then Crouch handed around a bag, first to Fleur then Krum, then Cedric, then Harry.

Fleur reached in and came out with the Chinese Fireball, the slender elegant red and gold dragon was, Harry thought, a good fit for the French witch. Krum picked the Swedish short snout, a dull grey thickset dragon with smallish wings, but huge bulging muscles. Cedric, much to Harry's relief and second hand sympathy, received the Hungarian Horntail. Despite his quarrel with the young man he wouldn't wish that breed of dragon on anyone, but better him than Harry. Finally Harry came out with the Welsh Green, Harry scowled, the only thing even remarkably as dangerous as the Horntail to Harry's plan was the Welsh Green, it was famed for its near impossible aerial acrobatics and death-defying manoeuvres. It would be, Harry thought, the perfect opponent for his Firebolt that was stashed in a copse of trees some two hundred meters away.

With Bagman's prompting, and a closer inspection Harry spotted the small medallion with a tiny engraved 'two' on it, Fleur's dragon had a three, Krum's had a one, and Cedric's a four. Happy not to be going last or first Harry backed away from the others and sat down on a bench off to the side as Bagman strode out of the tent calling over his shoulder.  
>"I'll see you soon Mr Krum, on the whistle come out and begin your bout!"<p>

-:-

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! OUR FIRST CONTESTENT APPROACHES!"

Hermione was on the edge of her seat, craning her neck trying to see down the champion's tunnel, but it had no sense of depth. The darkness inside it seemed to be a solid object, impenetrable to the naked eye. She hoped Harry would be first, if he got his bout out of the way early then he would be safe, she reasoned that the sooner this was over and done with the better.

The wards had been opaque when she took her seat in the grandstands, they were a physical thing, they could be touched and to do so was like touching a plate of cold steel: Hard, inflexible, harsh and unyielding. When the wards had suddenly gone translucent she was able to see the wide arena filled with spires of jutting rock nearly forty meters high and a central cornucopia of a lair, shaped somewhat like a tepee made from rocky spires. The arena was huge and she was happy she brought her pair of Omnioculars as it was over two hundred meters wide.

When she saw a figure step from the champions tunnel on her right she focussed her Omnioculars only to frown in disappointment, it was only Krum. Zooming out she watched as the Bulgarian boy seemed to stagger a second, probably because of the sudden light. Then he began creeping around the side of the arena trying to get a view into the central lair.

A gigantic explosion of noise caught the audience and Krum wildly off guard after the eerie silence. The sound was a horrific roar of gargantuan proportions that rattled and rolled with all the assumed power of a god. Hermione shrunk back instinctively from the sound and then the cornucopia exploded outwards. Shards of rock two or more meters across whipped through the air with terrifying speed breaking other spires as a hulking shape barrelled forth from the dust and debris.

Forty meters high at the shoulder and nearly sixty long the gigantic shape of the Swedish Short Snout was a terrifying sight, its scales were a dull iron colour that reminded Hermione of gunmetal and rather than possessing a shine, they instead had a deep rich lustre like the armour of a classical Roman Legionnaire. The beast's wings were folded across its back and the four limbs beneath it moved in indomitable strides that shattered rock and stone with terrifying ease. It ate up the distance at a prodigious rate, giant limbs propelling its titanic bulk forwards with unstoppable inertia.

Krum looked so small before the beast. Barely up to its knee the Bulgarian nevertheless had a powerful stance and wasn't backing down from the terrifying dragon bearing down on him. When the dragon was barely fifty meters away Krum aimed carefully and with accuracy that stunned Hermione into hitting the replay to watch it twice, shot a curse straight into the dragon's eye. The howl of rage and pain that came from the beast as it veered made Hermione's teeth chatter even from the other side of the arena. The dragon crashed into the wall shaking the entire structure with a sonorous boom of sound. Flames jetted up the side of the wards from the dragon's enraged outburst of breath. Hermione's gaze was locked on the meter and a half long talons the dragon possessed as they ripped through the ground like it was water as it skewed trying to stay upright. She didn't even want to consider what those would do to Harry or Krum for that matter.

Krum was moving already and Hermione had to give him credit that even on the ground the boy was fast. The half blinded dragon followed him rapidly, although with a drunken unsteady gait that slowed it down considerably. The Bulgarian wasted no time, vaulting over lower rocky outcrops and wending between the jutting spires he dashed rapidly towards the cornucopia and even now Hermione could see he would get away with it. Strangely at this moment her brain decided to start registering Bagman's commentary.  
>"…ill he get away with it? I think he will ladies and gentlemen! Look at him go! The dragon won't be denied however, watch for those flames!"<p>

Hermione's gaze snapped back to the dragon just in time to see its jaw snap open and thin jets of white flame burst forth and splatter in a molten fashion on the rocks just behind Krum. Hermione winced as the boy shrieked in pain as a globule of the liquid fire scorched through the shoulder of his robes. But then he was gone, dashing into the cornucopia. The Short Snout seemed to consider going in after him but it never got a chance as Krum dashed out the other side a few moments later with a golden egg clutched under his arm. The furious dragon roared again in rage as the champions dashed out of reach, flames licking at his heels.

The wards turned opaque again and Hermione assumed that the handlers were resetting the arena and changing the dragon for the next bout. She glanced briefly at the judge's scores but didn't really concentrate on them. How could she when all she could think about was the fact that Harry was mere minutes from walking into the arena with one of those horrifically powerful and gigantic beings. She began praying, hoping for a miracle.

-:-

When the whistle sounded Krum took a deep breath and Harry watched him square his shoulders before walking down the corridor to the entrance to the arena. Abruptly he vanished and Harry realized there must be an illusion on the end of the tunnel to disguise whatever was in the arena. It seemed the whistle was the only sound that could penetrate the wards surrounding the arena however because the remaining three champions didn't hear anything until the whistle sounded once more, although the entire tent shook at one point.

Harry took a deep steadying breath, just like Krum had, and felt a soft kiss on his cheek, turning he grinned at Fleur who had a worried but proud look on her face.  
>"Don't worry about me, worry for the dragon!" It was nevertheless a daunting prospect, he was about to engage the most agile Dragon in the world in an aerial battle. The words from the portrait hole came to mind, 'Gryffindors charge'<p>

Without a second thought he strode forwards, the Accio spell already on his tongue ready to cast the moment he stepped into the arena. He had no idea how long it would take his Firebolt to arrive, he was hoping for a few seconds. But every second would count in there and he couldn't afford delays.  
>The tunnel got progressively darker until suddenly he was assailed with sunlight so bright he had to shield his eyes. Acting on instinct he yelled his spell 'ACCIO FIREBOLT' and then dashed behind the nearest pillar of rock.<p>

All was silent for several seconds and then Harry heard the sound that would haunt his nightmares for decades to come. A long continuous slithering rattle, like a line of nails tied to a strong pulled across a stony floor, then an ear splitting roar shook the entire arena. It was high pitched and keening, the roar rose in pitch until a thick pulsing headache sprung up in Harry's mind. He and Hermione had researched a variety of dragon breeds for this task and Harry knew that the roar was a hunting aid to incapacitate animals before the dragon swooped and plucked them from the ground.

The roar abruptly shut off and Harry let go of his ears before quickly flicking a pair of deadening charms at them, hopefully that would fix the pitch problems without him losing his sense of hearing. The air was filled with several bone rattling thumps and Harry knew that the dragon had taken to the air, those were the tell-tale sounds of powerful wing beats. Taking several rapid and deep breaths he stepped away from the spire to take his first good look at his foe, and was immediately struck dumb with awe.

Seeing illustrations of a dragon in a book was one thing, but seeing one in person so close that you could see the individual scales on its chest? That was another thing entirely. The Welsh Green was still a hundred meters away, but already Harry could see the most striking features of the magnificent being. It was hovering; the huge wingspan of the Welsh Green was well used in keeping the gigantic creature afloat, its lower body and tail pointing towards the ground.

Harry noted the pair of gripping legs at the base of the dragon's proportionally short body and its twenty meter long, gently swaying tail that it was clearly using as a rudder to keep balance. The Dragon's scales were a deep green that shone in the sunlight like polished gems and Harry had to avert his eyes from staring at them full on. The membranous wings of the dragon were another matter entirely. Partially translucent they filtered the light into a vivid green that pooled over everything in Harry's half of the arena.

The most striking feature of the dragon however, was its head. Very long, nearly five meters, the dragon's lower jaw jutted out slightly ahead of the upper, clearly designed for scooping up animals in its mouth. Above the snout were a pair of thick ridges that arched back over the dragon's brow and then dissembled into two identical rows of aerodynamic spines that ridged down the beast's back before shortening and disappearing entirely just before the tail. Harry's eyes followed the ridges up the dragon's face until he found one of the dragon's eyes.

Utterly transfixed by the familiar emerald shade of the dragon's iris' Harry suddenly felt tiny, less than tiny as he was looked down by such a majestic creature. That something so enormous and powerful would even deign to look upon him gave him a feeling of utter insignificance that he would only ever admit to Hermione many years from now. Fifteen rapid beats of Harry's heart had passed since he dashed from the spire at his side. Then the dragon swooped.

Harry felt an incredible onrushing force, like the wave front ahead of a fighter jet, but massive, so huge and powerful that it buffeted at Harry even from where he was standing. The dragon's speed was terrifying and its powerful wings threw buffets of air in the young teen's direction. Then, all of a sudden, the direction of the buffets changed. Harry was no longer being pushed away from the dragon but rather sucked towards it as the gargantuan creature's chest expanded, inhaling enormous quantities of air. What happened next was inevitable.

Thick, roiling, billowing clouds of white hot flames engulfed Harry's position, scorching the rock and vaporising the grass, seconds later the rocks split and then began to melt under the inferno. It was a good thing then that Harry was no longer there. Even as the dragon's mouth had opened to incinerate the teen Harry had felt a tug on his magic, acting on impulse he leapt forwards blindly grasping in the air. He was unsurprised when his hand clenched around his firebolt that had arrived just in the nick of time. With an incredible feat of dexterity Harry mounted the broom mid-flight and tugged sharply upwards on the handle of the broom sending him first skyward and then in a tight backwards loop.

Rolling to stay right side up he went over the stream of flames roiling beneath him and then realized his mistake. The terrific acceleration of the Firebolt and the dragon's own momentum had brought them far closer than Harry had anticipated. The dragon's mouth snapped shut and it collapsed a wing rolling in mid-air, neck craning to keep Harry in sight as he whizzed over the Dragon's shoulder, close enough that had he reached down his hand would have brushed the beast's scales. Executing a quick dive he dodged out of the way of the flying tail that tried it's best to knock him ground wards before putting on an extra burst of speed.

Behind him the dragon executed a manoeuvre for which Harry had no name as it twisted upon itself in mid-air before snapping its wings out and flapping hard. The result was that it turned its direction one hundred and eighty degrees almost on the spot and somehow managed to keep its momentum as it rocketed after the tiny black speck that was evading it. So began the most incredible cat and mouse chase the school had ever seen.

Harry was, arguably, the best flier in the British Isles; if only through raw talent and a refusal to back down from any challenge. He flew recklessly taking hairpin turns and winging route through spires of rock. He was constantly a blur of motion, pulling his broom first one way, then another. He and his Firebolt worked together like an extension of each other as they wended rapidly through an increasingly dangerous set of obstacles. Harry's reflexes seemed super human, his body reacting to things before his mind had even identified them. It was only just barely enough.

If Harry was the best human flier in the British Isles, then the Welsh Green dragon species was the best non-human. Elegance and power did not even come close to being adequate to describe the sinuous ability that was the slim dragon. No matter where Harry went, no matter how difficult the turns; the dragon managed to keep up. It used a combination of flapping hard where possible to maintain altitude and then using that altitude to pick up speed as it dived after its prey.

The centuries old dragon was wily and cunning; it knew that any burst of flame would blind it long enough that the gnat could escape. So instead it relied purely on snapping jaws to catch Harry, especially after it found that it's magnificent and terrifying roar seemed to do nothing to the agile broom rider.

Harry was tiring fast, he was fit, incredibly so for a wizard, and he had amazing amounts of talent and endurance. But even he had his limits and the restless and constant movement was almost too much for him as he constantly evaded the dragon's snapping jaws. He had to make a gambit and fast. Flipping hard to the right and utilising a roll to burn off the extra G-Forces he shot between a pair of very close together spires and flicked his wand at them.

The overpowered sorcel impacted the spires with the force of a bomb, detonating and sending shards of stone flying back the way he had come, straight into the dragon's path. Harry didn't stop to look back, but the roar of pain and frustration was enough for him to veer towards the cornucopia to make the sprint for his prize. If he had looked back he would have been heartbroken to see the elegant and majestic wings of the dragon shredded by dozens of small and large holes. Thick blood from its wounds splashing on the rocks below as it struggled now to keep up with its prey.

Harry reached the cornucopia in seconds and shot towards the golden egg, hand outstretched to grasp it, when the world erupted around him.

-:-

Hermione ran, it wasn't often that she ran but when she did it was a mad cap affair of rapid footsteps and flailing hands as she forced people out of her way. When the cornucopia had exploded she had cried out in shock involuntarily. Huge shards of rock cart wheeled away from the epicentre to shatter on the wards a hundred meters away and the dragon was swatted from the air by a hail of debris. Hermione had watched carefully for any sign of Harry, tears springing up in her eyes when she saw a staggering figure collapse into the connection to the medical tent. So it was that Hermione had her destination, and she ran.

People yelled at her as she passed and people everywhere were screaming in shock and fear as spells started flying to the wounded dragon to subdue it. Distantly she could hear Dumbledore's sonorous voice incanting powerful spells that shook her magical core. But none of that mattered; there was only one thing on her mind, the brave foolish wonderful boy who held her heart. She had been on the edge of her seat the entire bout, her eyes wide in a mixture of fear and utter awe at Harry's continued ability to avoid his gargantuan foe.

When he had shredded the dragon's wings she had leapt out of her seat cheering wildly, letting out all the exultation she had been keeping bottled for fear of letting it out too soon. All around her the audience had realized that Harry was away laughing. Then the unthinkable had happened. And so Hermione ran.

The medical tent was guarded by Hagrid and upon seeing her he tried to block her from getting past yelling after her, but she was too nimble and dashed past. Only to be stopped by a wand wielding Professor McGonagall. She skidded to a stop, her need to see Harry blazing in her eyes but she refused to attack her teacher even in such circumstances. Nevertheless her need to see Harry prevailed and she tried to dash past only to be held back by Hagrid. Tears were streaming down her face, her throat hoarse as she yelled his name over and over. Hoping he could hear it, hoping he would respond. Her heart jumped when a weak cry met her ears, that wonderful husky voice yelling her name back to her.

She was beyond frantic, she had to see him and she managed to slip out of her robe and dash past McGonagall wearing only her uniform skirt and blouse. She burst into the tent with his name on her lips. She spotted him immediately, dashing to his bedside where he was magically restrained. She had to restrain herself from flinging her arms around him without pause. What she saw as she looked at him shocked her to the core.

He was battered; there was no other way of explaining it. Foot long gashes were open in his skin in several places including an even longer gash across his abdomen that was weeping fluids despite the spells holding the boy together. Tears sprang to her eyes as his own, pain filled, gaze met hers. She took his hand in hers, the one thing she seemed to be able to touch, and with far more restraint than she thought possible knelt down next to him and kiss his hand several times, murmuring to him as pain filled sobs wracked his body.

Only then did she see Madame Pomfrey swishing her wand over the nearly insensate love of her life. As a slice on his abdomen sealed he let out a long strangled cry that made her cringe. Harry had an immense pain threshold and for something to hurt him badly enough that he would cry out in such a way was truly frightening. Sobbing she clutched at his hand for what seemed like an eternity, their eyes locked. No one tried to move her, she could only guess that they didn't want her to see him like this and now that the damage was done the point was moot.

She could only cling to him, hope, pray, and stay strong for him, supporting him tacitly with her presence and her unflinching need to be at his side. Even in these dire straits.

-:-

It seemed like hours before Madame Pomfrey stepped back from Harry's body, but in reality scant minutes had passed and Harry hadn't lost consciousness. How she had no idea, but she assumed it had to do with his incredible strength of will. Years later he would tell her that, in truth, the only thing keeping him conscious was the desire to never leave her, and the fear that if he did slip away he would never wake up.

Harry was lying back against the wall of the tent, the bed no longer necessary as it was being re-prepped just in case Fleur needed it. Harry was physically fine, just drained. Hermione had been relieved to hear that he would only be left with a single scar from the ordeal, a long jagged affair down his left arm where a spike of rock had sliced straight through his arm and shattered the bone. The bone was healed and the flesh knitted, but the nerves and skin were just too heavily damaged. Not even magic could solve that problem, and Harry would probably always have a bit of numbness around that scar.

Hermione had snuggled up to him on the bench holding him tight and refusing to let him go. But when Dumbledore arrived Hermione had stood, and surprising everyone including herself, slapped the aging headmaster. Her follow up yell was something that would go down in Hogwarts history as the most violent anyone had ever seen Hermione Granger, and the one time Dumbledore had looked legitimately scared. Whether that was true or not no one, not even Hermione, would ever know as she couldn't even remember the contents of what her rant was. Suffice it to say that she was angry that something like that could have happened, surely the security for something like this should have been tighter.

Harry looked at the older man and saw something that truly scared Harry. Confusion was written all over the headmaster's face, as well as disbelief and shock. And not at what Hermione had said and done, but at the events had transpired. Harry watched as Hermione, suddenly aware of what she had done blushed heavily and sat down next to him mumbling apologies. Dumbledore seemed to have not noticed however as he locked eyes with Harry.

"I wish I could say otherwise Harry, but I have no understanding of what happened in that arena. The magical signature from that explosion suggested sorcery, but I have never encountered someone with the strength to pull that piece of magic off. Not even I with all my skill and experience could replicate that feat. The handlers are being questioned as we speak to see if one of them was responsible, but I doubt it. I truly have no concept of the amount of power required to create an explosion that could toss nearly a thousand tons of rock."

Harry looked at the aging man and saw not even a hint of deception on his face, and that more than anything scared Harry. The idea that Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the world, had no idea of the spell that created that explosion… it was a terrifying thought. He managed to find his voice after a moment.  
>"Why? How? What do we do now?" Dumbledore looked his age as he sat down on one of the benches. Harry noticed belatedly that the other teachers had left the tent to deal with other things<br>"The why is probably not as simple as a single answer, there could be dozens of reasons involved. The how is obviously out of our reach. What we can do? Absolutely nothing, regrettably our hands are tied in this case, you must continue with the tournament or you will die regardless and the other champions along with you. You are now forced to compete in the subsequent tasks and I can't help, but feel that you are going to be attacked again. I have no answers for you now, none that will satisfy your mind, let alone Miss Granger's here. Hopefully, soon, I will have the answers you seek."

With those enigmatic words the old man swept from the tent leaving Harry and Hermione almost more confused and bitter than they were before. Harry had no escape, he was going to be forced to put himself in harm's way time and time again in the tasks of this tournament and something told him they would be just as dangerous as this one, if not worse. The pair stayed together for many minutes simply holding one another, they were quite shocked when Fleur dashed into the medical tent, her Golden Egg under her arm.

The French Veela set the egg down and brushed past Madam Pomfrey as she was unhurt, concern was etched in her eyes at the haunted look on their faces.  
>"What happened?"<p>

-:-

Fleur Delacour was a witch who angered easily, it was a part of her heritage she felt indignation and anger more strongly and frequently than others purely because it was who she was. She embraced the more fiery aspects of her Veela upbringing and personality as they gave a good outlet for her emotions.  
>"When I catch the cochon that did that to you I'm going to arracher les testicules et les pousser jusqu'à son arrière, puis…"<p>

Her rant extended for several minutes as she vented her spleen slipping into more and more heavily accented French curses as she truly lost her temper. Harry couldn't help, but grin at his friend as her indignation and fury on his behalf was not only amusing it also showed her true concern for him which comforted him more than the threats themselves. Eventually he laid a hand on her shoulder and asked her quietly to look at him.

"I'm ok, I'm in one piece, they've done nothing more to me than give me another scar, I have a few of them now, they're good company. Chill out a bit and give he a hug you two." The last was said to both her and Hermione who was penning a letter on to their parents about the task and what had happened. They were back in the library long after the task had finished. Fleur had used a powerful sleeping aura to knock out her dragon and simply walk off with the egg. No explosive cornucopia's for her.

None of them had seen Cedric's performance but apparently it had been 'Embarrassingly underwhelming' and several students had thanked him for actually putting a good front on for the school. Daphne and Tracy had stopped by briefly to make sure he was okay, so had several others of their closer acquaintances. The real shock had been Neville.

-:-

Harry and Hermione, along with Fleur, had just told Rita Skeeter to shove off when a loud yell made them turn around. Neville Longbottom had jogged up to them and locked eyes with, surprisingly, Hermione.  
>"I'm sorry Hermione, after seeing what Ginny stooped to and talking to my Gran I've realized what a right wanker I've been. You don't deserve my prejudice or anyone else's," His eyes flicked to Harry and Fleur, "and neither do you."<p>

Harry had carefully watched Hermione for any signs of an explosion, but the brunette had simply huffed slightly before hugging the bemused Neville before slapping him soundly. She waved her finger in his face for a moment.  
>"And don't you do it again Longbottom, I still know the body bind curse. Don't make me use it again." The three Gryffindors had laughed soundly and Harry had shook Neville's hand.<p>

"She kind of took the words out of my mouth"

Neville looked at him seriously, "Look I know Ginny only got expelled, it's not like they could do anything more to her since she didn't really try and kill you. It was more criminal stupidity than anything else. But there's a hearing scheduled and she's been charged with attempted kidnapping, attempted rape and possession of an illegal substance. Gran wants the Wizengamot to throw the book at her and be done with it. You might be called on to testify."

Harry nodded as Neville spoke, happy that something was going to be done more than just a simple expulsion.  
>"Good, she's gone off the rails. If I had a choice I'd have her in a mental ward but she's dangerous. Best to just chuck her in prison and be done with it. I wish there were alternate options to Azkaban though; I wouldn't wish that place on a teenage girl."<p>

The conversation continued for a few more minutes with Fleur carefully watching the young man, when he finally left she turned to Hermione.  
>"Was that the cochon who called you a… you know what?"<br>Hermione shook her head, "No that was Malfoy he's the blond over there." She pointed through the crowded thoroughfare to the castle at Draco who was sitting chatting with his cronies as if he hadn't tried to kill harry just a few weeks earlier.

Fleur nodded in satisfaction, "He and I will have a chat at some point, a chat where I will be talking and he will be listening to the sound of my knee repeatedly crushing his testicles." The three laughed heartily and they continued back to the castle.

-:-

Back in the library the two girls released him from their enthusiastic hug and let him breathe a little, laughing at the look of mock suffocation on his face. Fleur turned to Hermione a teasing tone in her voice  
>"So tell me, how hot did Harry look on his broom?" The reactions from the two younger teens were comical, Harry choked slightly and Hermione went a deep shade of red as she looked down at her feet.<br>"Maybe just a little hot." The French witch laughed enjoying putting Hermione on the spot, especially with Harry right beside her becoming steadily more insensate.  
>"Only a little hot? Not magnificent or awe inspiring or sexy or yummy?" Hermione mumbled something into her chest as she looked down and Fleur chuckled before saying in a sing-song voice<br>"I can't hear you!"

That was the last straw and Hermione looked up and half yelled, "My panties were soaked the whole time, there you happy now?"  
>Harry nearly passed out from the mental image and Fleur let out gales of laughter as Hermione slumped forwards onto the desk mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, 'Curse me now'<p>

They were shooed out of the library by Madam Pince, and they instead made a beeline for the grounds and the Black Lake. Harry had a brief thought about how he was supposed to be deciphering the clue inside his egg but shrugged, he had months. Hermione on the other hand looked like a tomato and had the mannerisms of someone who wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Much to Harry and Fleur's amusement Hermione couldn't look at either of them and they happily linked arms with the brunette and headed down stairs to the grass to enjoy the day.

-:-

Later when Hermione and Harry were curled up together in bed with Harry absently stroking his girlfriend's hair he gently asked her, "Do you think God helped me today? In the explosion I mean, at first I thought it was my magic keeping me safe but now I'm not sure."  
>Hermione turned in his arms to face him and pecked his lips softly; her voice was tender and curious<br>"What brought this on love?"  
>Harry shifted and leaned on one elbow, the fingers of his other hand still toying with her hair.<br>"I was just thinking about how it felt to be in the middle of that explosion, the forces around me buffeting me every which way and pushing me just out of the way of the most dangerous debris. Sure I got smacked around by them but never hit full on."

Hermione looked thoughtful and she ran her nails lightly down his chest as she thought.  
>"I don't think we'll ever know for sure, maybe it was your magic, maybe it was just the physics of the explosion and the pressure fronts on the various pieces of debris. I like to think God helped you out though, and that's really all that matters. If you can believe that he did something to help you, if you can trust in that then he'll keep doing more of the same."<p>

The concept was new to Harry, putting his faith into something that he couldn't test, couldn't examine or understand. But what was there to lose really? As long as he did nothing different, still took the normal precautions and simply hoped for a little more from this elusive deity that he was considering. Maybe that's all he needed and in the end he had everything to gain. He had a question for her though.  
>"What does God say about the things we do while we're in bed with each other love?"<p>

Hermione frowned slightly at him before her features relaxed into a tender smile, "He says we should be married before we do any of this, I want you to try something for me."  
>Harry was curious and nodded along, "Reach out with your magic and touch mine."<br>Harry's breath hitched, they'd only done this once when they were curious and the emotions had nearly overwhelmed him, but he trusted her so he carefully reached out with his magic.

Hermione met him halfway and they both gasped at the sensation of suddenly being aware of exactly what was running through the other person's mind and how they felt. The love they felt for each other was a sort of loop. Harry and Hermione had their initial feelings for each other, which they then felt in their partner, creating deeper feelings for the other to feel ad infinitum. They could only hold the connection for a moment before the rapidly escalating feelings of affection forced them into a situation they didn't want to explore yet. Other emotions were also shared and fed of each other or balanced out and they knew that one day, when they could hold the connection for longer, they could truly become partners in body mind and soul.

Harry found the entire experience to be unbelievably intimate, they kept their eyes locked with each other the entire time and he could literally experience her love for him straight from the source. The deep seated affection and devotion she had for him, just as he had for her. They gasped slightly as the broke apart and Harry immediately felt empty and lonely, the urge to reach out to her again was incredibly strong ,but he resisted as best he could. After they caught their breath Hermione gently stroked his face  
>"I know things happen a little different in the Wizarding World, and after we tried that the first time I wanted to research it a little more." She smiled at the soft snort of amusement from Harry before continuing. "Apparently a witch or wizard can only touch the magic of someone their magic has accepted and bonded with: which means in the eyes of Wizarding Law we're betrothed, and will be married upon attaining our majority as long as we're both alive and… well… together."<p>

Harry's heart nearly broke at the nervousness in his girlfriend's voice, tenderly he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, softly kissing and caressing her, letting her know she had him forever.  
>"Nothing could ever break us apart love." He thought for a minute about the implications of what she said.<br>"So we are essentially married?"

Hermione shook her head slightly. "Not yet, in about three years when you turn seventeen we will be though, don't panic we don't have to tell mum and dad anything and we can still have a lovely Muggle ceremony one day with all our friends. But with us being as close as we are, the closest of friends, for so long, meant that our magic bonded with each other."

Harry ran through a list of possibilities in his mind to what he could best relate this to eventually only one came to mind, his voice was filled with awe and love.  
>"Are we soul mates?" Hermione smiled up at him and kissed him softly again before continuing.<br>"It doesn't really have an official name, but I guess that one is as good as any; our magic has determined that we are the closest and most compatible matches for each other which, honestly, I'm not complaining about. The proof comes from another talent that has netted you another friend recently."

Harry racked his mind before he realized what she was getting at. "My immunity to the Veela allure?"  
>She smiled and kissed him again as a reward. "That's right love, simple infatuation or a crush won't break through that enchantment, only a man who is deeply in mutual love with someone he considers his life partner can break through the allure. You ignore it completely. There are some natural defences and learned ones, but I'd be willing to wager you have neither of those as your defences are flawless against it, you don't even recognize the tug do you?"<p>

Harry shook his head a little in awe at what she was driving at. "So what it boils down to is proof that I'm head over heels in love with you?"  
>She chuckled and pushed against his chest gently with her hand, enjoying the warmth.<br>"More than that Harry, it is proof that you're so in love with me that, even subconsciously, you consider me the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. And that is honestly the most amazing gift you could ever give me Harry. You know what this means?"

Harry shook his head, unaware of what point she was trying to make.  
>"Your magic has, by finalizing this bond, confirmed that you'll beat Voldemort Harry, or at least that we'll both live long happy lives."<br>Harry was a little gobsmacked and understandably so. "Um… What? How can it do that?"  
>His beautiful girlfriend shook her head against him again. "I don't understand the magic behind it but it's sort of like a contract with the universe, it is old powerful magic and I don't have the faintest understanding of it, but it tells me without a doubt that I'll have you with me for a long time."<p>

Harry was dumbstruck, the implications of that were immense. He felt a giddy sort of relief flow over him.  
>"Am I invincible?" Hermione scowled at him and he shrank back.<br>"No, you're not, believe it or not you can still be horribly maimed, or put in a coma, or have your memories wiped, or become insane. There are still plenty of ways for people to take you away from me. I just know you'll be alive at the end of it all, you still need to look after yourself buster."

Harry gulped and nodded gently kissing her. "Then I'll endeavour to do that, I have to ask though, how does this all relate to my original question?"  
>Hermione grinned and spoke with a slightly hesitant, but hopeful tone.<br>"It relates in that, if you still want me, one day I'll be Mrs Hermione Potter, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the reason I can't get my head around the magic of this bond is because God doesn't want me to. He wants me to just live my life with you and enjoy myself because we have much darker days ahead. So long as we don't go all the way before we're married I don't think we'll have too much of a trouble."

Harry softly kissed her then, forsaking words for the power of unspoken communication as he let her know his body's desires. His entire being was thrumming with arousal and he could tell she was too. There was an amazing level of intimacy between them as they tangled together naked but for Harry's boxers. They kissed and caressed each other Harry stroking Hermione's body in a variety of sensual ways and Hermione returning the favour by bringing Harry to orgasm several times over the course of the night, just as he did for her. The stress of the day melting away between the sheets as they explored their relationship with a whole new confidence and level of unconditional trust that even years later they were still working on. Harry was glad of silencing charms that night.

-:-

Breakfast in the Great Hall the following morning was something of a subdued affair. No one was looking forwards to lessons that week after such an exciting weekend, the return to the daily humdrum grind of schoolwork was a bit of a downer after four bouts with dragons. Fleur met Harry and Hermione in the Great Hall for breakfast and they were once again treated (or cursed depending on your point of view) to the rich aroma of coffee. They talked for a while and Fleur subtly congratulated them on deepening the connection she had sensed between them. They blushed and dissembled the conversation towards the day's lessons.

Hagrid had something of a surprise for them that afternoon as they reached his class, and while Hagrid's surprises were usually terrifying, the crates of cute furry creatures were actually an improvement. The lesson went swimmingly and Neville, much to everyone's surprise, ended up with the most proficient Niffler and ended up winning a bar of chocolate. Hagrid was interrupted however by Rita Skeeter at the end of the lesson who managed to secure and interview with him at the Hog's Head to talk about 'Zoological Issues'. Harry rolled his eyes. He was sure the implication was that 'Zoological' stood for 'Harry's life' although Hagrid missed the byplay. Both Hermione and Harry warned Hagrid against the interview, but he was obstinate.

-:-

Friday came as both an unpleasant and pleasant surprise, the previous day Rita Skeeter had released an article describing a sordid love triangle between Harry, Hermione and Fleur. The unpleasant surprise came for the trio (Fleur inclusive) as they ate breakfast. Hermione was steadily munching her way through some waffles and bacon when the post owls came in. Immediately the table was swamped with dozens of owls and Hermione had to battle her way free of the creatures to get stock of the situation, as did Fleur. They carefully started removing the letters and stacking them to the side to be opened, when at last all the birds were gone Hermione opened the first letter and promptly snorted in derision.

"Well that's just immature." The two witches had received a staggering amount of hate mail claiming they were both 'toying with Harry's affections.' The three of them knew better of course, but nothing could have prepared them for when a large amount of bobotuber pus that erupted from an envelope and coated Hermione's hands. Harry blasted the letter to smithereens before helping Hermione up with Fleur and the two of them escorted Hermione to the hospital wing amidst the jeers of the Slytherins.

One particularly feminine voice shrieked, "Serves you right you mud blood bitch!"

Hermione now in tears sprinted ahead of the two as Harry turned his icy gaze upon the hall before leaving, disgust etched on his face unwilling to make a scene. Fleur had no such qualms and the row that erupted between Pansy and her was short, but brutal and the hospital wing had another patient that afternoon, the fact that the teachers turned a blind eye was just icing on the cake.

-:-

Harry followed Hermione into the hospital wing where she was already being checked by Madam Pomfrey, he moved up beside her bed where she was being examined and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead.  
>"If it helps, Fleur's dealing with Parkinson; I wanted to be here with you though." What came next Harry would never have expected, after the mediwitch walked back to her office having done all she could Hermione spoke her voice was dripping with venom and Harry's heart clenched at her words<br>"You really shouldn't have bothered, why don't you just go back and have some fun with your perfect French Blond I'm sure her hands are perfect."

Harry stuttered, totally stunned by her words, never had she spoken to him with such anger in her tone, he had no idea what he'd done wrong and he could only stare as she continued  
>"I look hideous, you don't have to say it, it's just what I get for having mud running through my veins isn't it? That's it; stare at my fucking malformation like a gormless idiot. Get out!"<p>

Harry staggered back from her bed, she wasn't looking at him and he could see the tears streaking down her face.  
>"Love you're not-"<br>"Don't you dare tell me I'm not ugly or hideous, look at this, I have boils covering my fucking hands Harry, you clearly don't understand what I'm going through right now, you should go."

Harry felt tears prickle in his eyes; never had she shown such spite and hate in her words. He had no rejoinder as she obviously wasn't going to let him get a word in edgewise. Downcast he left the hospital wing for Transfiguration cursing Rita Skeeter with every breath in his body, hating that her spiteful hurtful words could provoke such a reaction in his normally mild mannered love. He knew, rationally, that Hermione was just using him as an outlet for her anger and misery, but it didn't make it any easier to stomach being on the receiving end of.

The end of Transfiguration held the pleasant surprise for the day as Minerva described the Yule Ball and its significance as well as Harry's part in it and how he would require a partner. In a stroke of inspiration that he was sure he would never match again he struck upon a plan. Not caring about History of Magic he dashed back to the hospital wing and went straight to Hermione's bedside where she was nursing the painful boils. He knelt down beside her and, careful not to hurt her, took her relatively undamaged palms in his hands.

"Love, please look at me" Hermione pointedly looked in the other direction and Harry had to ruthlessly supress a laugh at the childishness of her pout.  
>"Okay look, Professor McGonagall just told me about the Yule Ball that gets held as a sort of tack on event to the Tri Wizard Cup. Normally I'd be daft about this whole thing and not really know where to look, but she mentioned to me that I need to have a partner for the ball. I came straight here when I found out. All I could think about was having my beautiful girl with me on the night so that she could show up Parkinson at her own game. You're elegant, beautiful and awe inspiring to me and I would be honoured if you would be my date to the Yule Ball Hermione."<p>

It was he thought quite nice for something he thought up on the fly and he waited with baited breath as Hermione continued to look away from him, then he heard her soft sob.  
>"And what if I've still got these things by the time of the ball? What if something else happens? You won't have your Hermione then; you'll have this ugly troll instead."<br>Carefully so as not to hurt her Harry let go of one hand and gently turned her chin to face him so that he could look into her tear streaked eyes.  
>"Then I will still have the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts all to myself. Your physical beauty is only one third of the whole my sweetheart, your beautiful mind and soul have captured my heart as well. And no bobotuber pus can mar those aspects of your beauty."<p>

Hermione broke down into soft sobs and Harry carefully slid around behind her to hold her close in a hug, supporting her upper body in his arms and gently kissing the top of her head.

Her hiccoughs abated after a while and she said sadly, "I was horrible to you earlier."  
>Harry just nodded, waiting for the rest of whatever was coming. "I felt horrible and ugly and I couldn't bear to have you see me like this, I don't feel like your Hermione right now, I'm swollen and bloated and foul and it's horrible. I didn't want to take it out on you love I swear, it just happened."<p>

Harry cradled her against him and softly shushed her, kissing her hair lovingly. "It's okay sweetheart, I forgive you. I don't even blame you really, I'm sure I would have been much the same in similar circumstances."

She hiccoughed again before saying softly. "You are far too good to me you know that right?"  
>Harry chuckled, "And you never forget it."<br>They stayed talking through Harry's History of Magic class and all the way through the lunch period. By that time the ointment had reduced the swelling completely, and she was able to join him for Potions. It was the first of many hurdles in their personal life. But nothing would tear them apart. They looked forwards to the coming trials with hope and high heads. They would do this, together.

-:-

AN2: Well here's another one, arghas;jg this took a long time to write, my computer decided to crash twice while I was writing it, thousands of words of progress lost instantly, TWICE. Anyhoo, here it is

AN3: Review responses:

Oldkerosen: Wow… thanks for picking that up, I didn't even think when I wrote that scene, the mistake has since been fixed.

Modges: Consider that Draco doesn't think Harry has many rights as a human being, very spoilt certainly and misinformed, but at the end of the day he's got a superiority complex the size of Hagrid and that… affects people. Especially privileged people who carry lethal weapons around with them at all times.

Starboy: Thankyou, I certainly thought so

Iceflame: Thankyou for your review! Always nice to have a fan.

Texan Muggle: Good points one and all, I'm sure I'll get around to dealing with them when I have a spare moment or two. Anything to say that isn't about the construction of the story? Maybe about the themes or content?

Lisbeth Lou Who: You have got to stop making me blush, my lord ;) thank you very much

Vegasman: I knew someone would get it! Yaaaaaaay

Anotherboarduser: I've been purposefully seeking out fiction lately that uses both magic and gunplay for its combat and I find that they fill two very different but important roles when using traditional HP magic. Hopefully when the wider implications of sorcery are explained in subsequent instalments of this series you'll understand a bit better why in at least this fiction I'm not using guns. I might consider it for others.

Hadrian James Black: Good to hear! And yeah… Neville's had a bit of a rough rap till now. No matter the world will go on and alliances change.

Beyondthesea: Lots of people seem to be talking about Neville, should Harry be jealous or is everyone just suggesting I pair Hermione and Neville together for when I finally write my Flarry fic? No matter, I'm glad you liked the chapter.

Leo Oculus: Thankyou so much for pointing that out, I would have died inside if that had gone on and I hadn't noticed for a while, I believe it's been fixed now after a bit of effort.

Fallen: Never fear! The twins shall never be separated, not in my fics.

Kkerklan: I'm glad you came around! What do you mean a whole new kind of fanfic? This isn't that strange is it? Guys? Guys?

JHarry: I think I covered your main concern adequately in this chapter as to why Ginny wasn't initially punished more harshly. At worst she could have gotten manslaughter or criminal negligence as she never actually meant for Harry to die, as it is she can only be charged with the charges mentioned and will be charged as such or so help me god I'm not a Harmony writer.

-:-

Thanks for reading and other shenanigans as always! Love to hear from you and I'll see you all at the end of the next chapter: Duelling, the Yule Ball, and a Bath


	12. Dueling, a curse, and the last straw

AN: Disclaimer as usual, yadda yadda.

AN2: So… this is an entire chapter dedicated to the first bouts of the duelling tournament and the aftermath, sue me but I found this really fun to write.

-:-

Duelling a Curse and The Last Straw

The second task was three months away and Harry felt that for the first time in many weeks he had the chance to relax, at least from frantic spell learning, his classes were still hard enough as it was. DADA was quickly becoming the biggest sink on his time, as they were finally moving into indirect sorcery, sorcels that affected their target in a transfigurative sense, otherwise known as hexwork.

-:-

Moody's voice barked across the classroom  
>"Right, you've all seen what can be accomplished with sorcery, we've seen UMF Casting, the basics of offensive sorcery, we've seen the offensive branch of enchantment, now I want to introduce you, at least at the ground level, to Hexwork."<p>

With a wave of his wand one of the usual targets was conjured into being.  
>"Up until now we've blasted holes in things, cut them to shreds, moved them around, but so far we haven't modified them. Why is that, can anyone tell me?"<br>Hermione's raised hand was acknowledged and she began to speak.  
>"Sir, because to modify an object using your own willpower you have to be able to exactly visualise what you want the result of your spell to be, not only before, but while you cast it, and many people cannot accurately visualise concepts within their minds."<p>

Moody nodded and awarded the standard five points before continuing with his lecture  
>"Just as Ms Granger says, many people, in fact most people, don't have the ability andor concentration to hold the image of what they desire in their minds, as you can imagine this creates problems when trying to modify your target. For example, if I wanted to turn that target into a life sized human armature."  
>Moody aimed his wand at the target and then with an elegant curve and a short jab cast his sorcel, the target, much to everyone's amusement, turned into an exact facsimile of Professor Snape. Which Moody then blasted to pieces with a sorcel.<br>"Our secret aye?" He chuckled a little before carrying on, "Up until now we've only had to deal with relatively basic imagery, weapons or vectors, and while they are hard enough the idea of fully visualising every detail you want your sorcery to create is incredibly difficult."

He looked sternly around the room for a second, or at least Hermione thought he did, it was hard to tell with his mangled features.  
>"With the proper discipline and imagination you can Hex any object into another totally functional object. You just have to be able to hold every detail of what you want the object to turn into and have the willpower to maintain the transformation. What other major limitation does this branch of Sorcery have? Mr Potter?"<p>

Harry's raised hand dropped as he answered  
>"Sir, regardless of what transformation you are applying to your target you will be changing it's mass, composition or material type, perhaps from organic to non-organic, or from an ignoble metal like iron to a noble metal like gold. This all takes incredible amounts of energy."<p>

Moody nodded approvingly before prompting him  
>"Why then do you suppose Transfiguration is so much more popular than Hexwork? Remembering that despite the power requirements and difficulties involved Hexwork is theoretically limitless in possibility?"<p>

Harry thought for barely half a second and Hermione was quietly proud of how quickly he responded.  
>"Because inherently in transfiguration the spells, while difficult to cast, are universally possible and they have a fixed power limit meaning that the caster cannot exhaust themselves trying to do something they cannot achieve, the spell will simply not work. For example; extended sorcery that we have encountered so far is a series of processes each one requiring its own surge of power to complete. I imagine that Hexwork would be a multi stage process of varying degrees of power input that you would have to complete to achieve the sorcel."<p>

Moody nodded again, his lopsided and grizzled grin peeking out from beneath his battered nose  
>"Go on, you're doing well lad, give us the rest of it."<br>Hermione watched Harry carefully and saw the familiar stages of denial and dismissiveness towards the compliment that flashed across his face, she knew she had to do something about his self-esteem, it was improving but it still pained her to see him dismiss his achievements so easily.  
>"With the exceptions of Gamp's law and The elemental laws, Transfiguration can be used to modify practically any shape, it is simply a matter of discovering the appropriate spell, in that way it is almost as versatile as Hexwork and much more accessible to the masses, making it a far more popular choice."<p>

"Well said Potter, take ten for Gryffindor, why then am I teaching this to you? Hexwork is an involved and difficult process and it serves little use on the battlefield until you become truly a master in the art. And many of you will never be able to reach that point. I would say that Ms Granger, Mr Potter and Ms Brown would have the best chances out of the lot of you, but even then it isn't certain. Again, why am I teaching you this? I'm teaching you Hexwork because it is an invaluable skill, having the ability to modify your surroundings at will, not just your enemies, is a huge advantage and getting your foot in the door at an early age while you still have your strongest learning potential is the best way to begin your tutelage. And with Hogwarts not offering the subject until your Newt years usually I thought it would be a good opportunity to get your feet in at the ground floor so to speak, Dumbledore and the board agree, Hexmasters and Hexmistresses are far too few and far between for any true strides in the field can be made. The field needs new blood and where better to learn than in a controlled environment."

He took a short but deep breath before continuing  
>"Right, we still have about half the lesson left, I'll give you some homework to do on the basic wand forms and some entry level things you can attempt even outside the classroom, but do it in pairs. Tomorrow we can see how far you got and we'll go from there. For the mean time I want you all in the ring in a free combat environment. Practise wands only two versus two versus two, five minute bouts. At the end of each bout we'll talk about who did what right and who did what wrong, learn from each other, and try again. Snap to!"<p>

-:-

DADA continued in this vein for much of the rest of the term, the remaining six lessons being divided between learning the theory and practise of Hexwork and free combat scenarios where the six teens in the fourth year Gryffindor class began to truly hone their skills. Rarely were Harry and Hermione ever beaten as a pair however, they were apt now at working together, Hermione focusing on defending and throwing up broad band walls of free magic that absorbed spells while Harry fired between the gaps and generally went on the offensive. When he would land a particularly punishing blow he and Hermione would both gang up on the target's partner and put them both out of the fight before turning to deal with the other pair.

Even four on two they were nigh unstoppable and only once were they defeated when Seamus unleashed a new sorcel he had been working on that surrounded Harry and Hermione in a cloud of his free magic that prevented them from casting any sorcels. Moody praised the boy for his work and then, after having him teach the rest of them, banned all six of them from using the sorcel while in their practise bouts, it was an excellent disabler but the bouts were about learning skills and honing their reflexes, not ending the fights quickly.

The last Thursday of term however turned out to be the round robin for the open grade duelling tournament. Fourth to seventh year students, all with the same skills, (Depending on their respective learning speeds), were all given the chance to compete against one another for the dueller's cup at the end of the year, this being the round robin to see who would qualify for the preliminary round in January. It was also the scheduled date of the first match of the various doubles events; before the round robins the Hufflepuff teams would go up against the Slytherin teams in the various year groups, and the Ravenclaws would be going up against the Gryffindors.

-:-

Harry and Hermione were getting ready for their bout, the fourth year Ravenclaw team, Padma Patil and Terry Boot, was organising themselves across the dueller's platform. The whole school was in the great hall with two large platforms set up, one for the Slytherin/Hufflepuff bouts, and the other for the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw ones. As they were in the youngest year of competitors they would be going first. He had taken a moment to note who the Slytherin and Hufflepuff competitors were; Unsurprisingly Malfoy had gotten on his team, and another Slytherin Harry vaguely remembered being called Zabini, he was quietly surprised that Daphne hadn't gotten onto the Slytherin team, she was a powerful witch in her own right, maybe she hadn't taken well to sorcery?

The 'Puffs were Macmillan and Bones, Harry wasn't surprised at that match up, Susan was a strong confident witch from a long line of powerful and talented women. Macmillan on the other hand was one of the most wilful people Harry had ever met, when he set his mind to something it got done, despite the usual flippancy shown towards Hufflepuffs they would be strong competitors and Harry was certain they would work as a team extremely well, if for no other reason than their inherent loyalty drove them to do so.

He looked back to the two Ravenclaws stretching and discussing across from them, he had seen Padma around the school with Parvarti several times and while he knew that she was just as powerful as any witch, her inclusion in the Ravenclaw team was somewhat surprising to Harry, he wasn't aware till now of any particularly strong focus from the girl. Boot was a complete wildcard, Harry had never so much as shared a sentence with him and had no idea what to expect. Fortunately neither of the 'Claws would be ready for what he and Hermione were about to unleash.

He looked back to his lover and she shot him a feral grin. Her hair was tied back in a long braid that Harry had helped her organise that morning. They had enjoyed the time relaxing together as he brushed her hair down and helped her braid it together. He grinned back at her and knew exactly what was going through her mind, they had been working on a strategy for months now and with their unique sorcels under their belt they would be a force to be reckoned with. He gestured to the 'Claws with his eyes and a tilt of his chin.

"We shouldn't get too cocky, who knows how advanced they are. We go in hard, we don't give them any room to breathe, and we bring them down, agreed?" He was happy to see Hermione's mouth twitch up and her elegant eyebrow arch.  
>"They won't stand a chance love, let's do this."<p>

As one they stood, shoulder to shoulder, and after taking a deep balancing breath, stepped onto their side of the arena. They didn't have to wait long for the Ravenclaws to join them and Moody, who was officiating the duel, raised his wand and spoke in his growling tones.  
>"Standard sorcerer's duelling, no spells are permitted in the following engagement, and any spell cast by a competitor will have their team forfeit the bout, the first team to have both its competitors unable to continue loses the bout. The first pair to win three bouts wins. Ready?"<p>

Both pairs nodded and approached each other to shake hands before backing off and turning around to face away from one another. Harry shared a sly wink with Hermione as Moody began counting down.  
>"From five then: Five, four, three, two, one, BEGIN!"<p>

Both of them sprung apart, twisting in mid-air to begin flinging sorcels at the Ravenclaws: Hermione focussing on quick accurate jabs and cuts while Harry filled the area where the two Blue and Bronze students were standing. It was lucky they had moved because the first thing Terry had done was send a broadband cutter across where they had been standing while Padma threw up what looked like a spherical shield. It didn't help them, much.

There were a wave of concussive tones that rang across the mostly open arena as Hermione's jabs slammed into the shield, she quickly abandoned the cutters in favour of the more concentrated effect and quicker cast speed of the jabs. Harry on the other hand switched tactics entirely. With his powerful explosive sorcels battering away at the shield and surrounding area on delayed impacts he was given free rein to implement the next phase of their strategy.

Terry and Padma had not been idle. Apparently they were initially a defensive pair as Padma was casting shield after shield layering the domes like an onion that Harry and Hermione were fighting against as the protective sphere slowly increased in size. Meanwhile Terry looked to be concentrating hard and a piece of rubble in front of him was twisting in shape, nothing definite could be seen yet but that didn't calm Harry at all if they couldn't pierce these shields soon they would be hard pressed to even find somewhere to move as the magic slowly overwhelmed them. Fortunately they had a backup. Sorcery shields are notoriously bad at blocking solid objects, thrown daggers, falling trees, Muggle explosions. All of them ripped right through sorcery shields as they were only able to absorb magic, the basis of a sorcery shield being that it was simply a large area of null magic that absorbed the impacts of spells and sorcels because of their contrary magical natures.

Using this knowledge Harry whipped his wand in tight loops cutting a large rock in front of him into hundreds of smaller pebbles about the size of the last joint of his thumb. Lifting them before him he urged them on their way with a flick of his wrist. Padma saw the incoming hail of stones approaching a second too late to do anything about them as they pelted the pair, abruptly breaking Padma's careful concentration on her shield onion and Terry's hex which abruptly detonated outwards as the malformed magical energy sought to escape.

If it wasn't bad enough that they were suffering magical whiplash and dozens of tiny bruises (Harry hadn't been _too _brutal with the velocity of the pebbles), they were suddenly assailed by Hermione's onslaught which she had been maintaining to give Harry the time to break their defences. Now with all of those defences gone her sorcels battered them senseless in moments ending the bout rather abruptly with the two bruised and battered Ravenclaws out for the count.

-:-

Hermione chuckled inwardly as she watched Harry's powerful sledgehammer like sorcels obliterate the terrain that Padma was frantically pulling in front of her to block Hermione's spells. After the debacle of the first bout the Ravenclaws had apparently abandoned their strategy and were now trying desperately to implement a plan B.

Hermione was a quick and powerful sorceress, but that wasn't where her major talent lay, rather it was in her uncanny accuracy even when concentrating elsewhere. So it was that she could watch Harry with half her attention and still keep up the barrage on both Padma and Terry who was catching her jabs on his duellers shield, rather skilfully she thought too.

Harry was a blur of motion, his arm moving in smooth circular patterns that unleased a blow of power at the apex of each elliptical pass of his hand, shattering rock after rock and brick after brick that Padma was using to defend herself. The cutter that Terry had sent at the start of their first bout was the only offensive sorcel either of them had managed to cast, so set on the back foot were they that Harry and Hermione were not giving them room to breathe and counter attack.

It was only a matter of time until one of them made a mistake and it was Padma who realized that she had run out of debris nearby to pull towards her with her magic. She belatedly tried to block Harry and Hermione simultaneously with her Dueller's shield but it was swatted aside by Harry's massive reserves of power before a cutter from Hermione lanced from her temple to her throat and knocked her cold. Then Terry was on his own before the combined and undivided might of the two Gryffindors.

Harry, Hermione realized, wasn't pressing the duel, rather he was experimenting with Terry's defences and Hermione had to admit that the young Ravenclaw's form was superb, flawless even as he neatly dodged or caught everything the pair sent at him. Hermione wasn't quite sure how the boy was achieving it but he seemed to know where the Gryffindors were going to cast their sorcels. Hermione watch Harry's face split into his now familiar grin of triumph and she felt a shudder run down her spine, he had the poor boy in his clutches now.

-:-

The blast of magical energy sent Terry reeling and tumbling backwards, so focused on where the two were going to be casting he had neglected to realise the flaw in his plan, area of effect sorcels. He had been holding off Hermione fine, reserving his strength to defend instead of counter attacking, and Harry hadn't added much to the fight when Padma had gone down, foolishly he had thought that Harry was tiring or was holding back, too late did he realize that the younger wizard was simply probing his defences.

When it did come it had shocked Terry with its simplicity, an area of effect spell on either side of the Ravenclaw had given him nowhere to turn and with Hermione still battering away he had no respite. The magical shockwave sent him spinning backwards until he landed painfully on his back, a sorcel from Hermione was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

-:-

Harry rocked back on his heels as Hermione engulfed him in a tight hug, if even for the briefest of moments. Terry and Padma had surrendered the final bout knowing when they were beaten and acknowledging that they had great deal more to learn. Three victories and no losses put them on the top of the leader board as the Slytherin team had only beaten the Hufflepuffs after losing to them twice in a row. The combination of Susan and Ernie was apparently a very strong one.

Harry and Hermione were very proud of their achievement that day and would have been content to sit back and relax for the rest of the day had it not been for the round robin of the open grade singles tournament. After they watched the contestants from the other year groups, particularly cheering on Fred and George who decimated a pair of shrewd looking Ravenclaws, they went over to the match board and found that they both had two bouts one immediately after lunch (Harry first then Hermione two bouts later) then another bout apiece closer to dinner, these bouts would be the only ones they fought against each competitor until the quarter finals if they made it that far. For the sake of fairness competitors could only see their own names, not who they would be facing in the arena.

They left for lunch and ate lightly knowing that there would be extra food laid out for those wishing to battle on a light stomach rather than a heavy full one. Then after spending some time relaxing by the lake they returned to the great hall, now returned to its duelling arena state. Harry headed to the arena on the left of the hall, officiated by Prof. Flitwick, and took a moment to centre himself before looking up at who his opponent was, only to choke slightly as he realized it was Fleur.

He had forgotten completely that the other schools would be competing and Harry knew for a fact that both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had sorcery training throughout their entire seven years at school. He had no illusions as to how this bout would go, he would do his best but, inevitably, it would not be enough to best someone who was simply more experienced and still in the prime of their youth, arguably in even better shape than him.

What happened then was truly a sight to see.

-:-

He and Fleur faced each other across the arena, small piles of debris were around the large ring to be used as cover or impromptu weapons Fleur had just one sentence for him before they started.  
>"Bon chance mon frère, see you in the endgame."<p>

He simply nodded to her before turning and walking away from her. Twenty meters apart with their backs turned to each other they turned the moment they were able and began casting. This was nothing like his and Hermione's bouts against Padma and Terry. Even against Hermione himself he had not faced such an opponent, they darted back and forth trading sorcels relentlessly blocking attacks with their duellist's shields and blasting solid objects out of the air almost carelessly.

The air between them became desert dry as the over charged spells both of them were firing at one another vaporised the water in the air leaving only hot dry oxygen in its wake. The speed and power with which they were firing their sorcery even ignited small flames along the wake of the sorcels in mid-air as the magic bleeding from their attacks mixed with the hot air and combusted creating streaks of flame that shot back and forth across the stage. The streaks of fire were only momentary but they were a testament to the amount of power the sorcerer and the sorceress were throwing at one another, totally sure of the other's ability to block or dodge but hoping that they would not.

Harry had never felt so alive, his body was thrumming with power and his mind was rattling off attacks and strategies faster than he could consciously understand them, salvos of jabs and cutters interspersed with his more potent sorcels and kinetic attacks were back up with shields and dodges so fast they were almost apparition.

Fleur was another story entirely she was less the maelstrom of movement and energy that Harry was, rather she was a finely tuned and efficient duellist who used only what was needed, years of experience honing her talent to a razor edge as she fired tight clusters of sorcels with graceful motions of her wand and body. The energy roiling off them both however was not to be disputed.

Eventually something had to give, one of these two duellists would make a mistake and, inevitably, it was Harry. His lack of experience allowed Fleur to subtly work him into a corner between two piles of rubble where she sent an explosive sorcel at both piles, similar to what Harry had done earlier in that very same day. The hail of rubble forced Harry to dodge backwards and desperately he sent a wave of kinetic impulse rushing outwards.

By design fleur had placed herself directly in front of Harry so as to finish him off when the time came and end the bout, but the sudden onrush of rubble that she herself had sent Harry's way took her by surprise. She hadn't expected him to be able to retaliate that quickly to her attack and she was forced to send a broad band cutter to obliterate the pieces, she had tried before to reflect one of Harry's kinetic sorcels back at him but he was simply too powerful and her own sorcels were batted aside.

The hail of smaller chunks battered her still and she slumped back clutching at several bruises across her ribs. She looked up to see a surprised Harry's sorcel jetting towards her before she faded to black.

-:-

"I still think you should have won Fleur"  
>The musical laugh that followed Harry as the went to seat themselves near Hermione made her smile and she laughed as Harry grinned even through his frown.<br>"You're a much better duellist then I am, simply with sorcery never mind spells, there's no way I should have been able to hold on as long as I did, and that ending? That was pure fluke; there must have been something in my food…"

He rambled on not realizing that both Hermione and Fleur were looking at him with great amusement, Hermione in particular was looking on with more than a little affront in her eyes, abruptly she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, gently but effectively shutting him up.  
>"You Harry James Potter are an exceptionally talented and powerful wizard, let alone sorcerer. You beat Fleur by doing what you do best, you set yourself a goal, that being I presume to give your all in the bout, and through doing so you fought Fleur to a standstill and even turned her gambit against her for the victory."<p>

She took a quick breath before continuing  
>"Did Fleur outclass you? Yes, certainly at every turn, did she out manoeuvre you? Yes absolutely. Did she win? No, why? Because you have the determination to succeed, even in the face of a superior and more talented foe you will sit them on their arse every time because you have the will to go on and succeed at whatever you do. Perhaps someone like Dumbledore or Voldemort might break through your shields and put you down but Fleur, no offense, is no Dumbledore."<p>

Fleur butted in at that point  
>"It helps that you have an amazing reserve of power about you, it's like battling against the ocean or a storm against you harry, you're like a force of nature, whenever I would up the ante with my skills to try and take you down you would simply move faster, force more energy into your sorcels and shields, apply more pressure to my defences. Basic tactics but wrought with great competency. Hermione is quite right, you are a powerful and talented caster."<p>

Harry blushed profusely under the praise as Hermione and Fleur both swept him into a hug for a few seconds  
>"You won, it does not matter how, you did not cheat and you did not resort to trickery, you simply beat me, fair and square. Be proud of that, not many your age, or even my age, can claim as such. There is a reason I am the Beauxbatons champion and it's not my good looks."<p>

The two younger teens both laughed before sitting back and watching the current duels and Hermione smiled as Harry spoke again, his voice was so lovely.  
>"I wonder who you'll be going up against sweetheart?"<br>Hermione frowned  
>"I don't know, but I hope they're not one of the Dumstrang students, they're nothing more than brutes and I'd hate to have to put one down because of his bad behaviour."<p>

Harry snorted lightly as he glanced around the Great Hall trying to spot who was concealing anxiousness or nerves, trying to spot the people he thought were most likely to be next. Hermione smiled again and gently kissed him as she truly did love him and he was so attractive as he prowled the room with his eyes trying to size up those who might cause her harm. Evidently he came up with nothing as his eyes turned back to hers with a soulful look.  
>"Put them on their arse Hermione, I don't care who it is, you win that fight."<p>

She grinned happily and kissed him once more before heading to her arena as the bout ended to get ready for her own. She would put them on their arse, if only to give Harry a moment of pride in her, she loved it when he was proud of her. Shaking her head lightly she took to the arena and sized up the wiry Slytherin sixth year opposite her drawing her wand and politely bowing to the girl she turned and took her position, then the bout began.

-:-

Later that evening at dinner as the three of them talked comfortably they shared their thoughts on the later bouts of the day. The Slytherin had proved to be a challenge but Hermione had won her bout only to lose later on against a seventh year Gryffindor she couldn't remember the name of, Harry had won his later duel against a scared looking Justin Finch Fletchley who evidently remembered the duelling club from second year.

Sadly Justin had been a push over and the bout had lasted less than fifteen seconds. Fleur had been involved in another bout about an hour after Hermione's first and after a brief contest had thoroughly beaten the Durmstrang student she had been facing. They were all reasonably happy with their performances and Harry could only lament that Ron would have loved this had he still been around, he felt guilty as he realized that he rarely thought of his ginger haired ex best friend.

His eyes met Hermione's and he was unsurprised to see tears in her eyes, she was clearly thinking the same thing as he and he took her hand in his squeezing it gently.  
>"He would be happy for us love, so why not be happy ourselves? He would want us to enjoy all of this and not mope around after him, he was a man of action. Let's honour that."<p>

Hermione's teary nod and watery smile made him grin as he leaned close to her and whispered in her ear  
>"I love you my sweetheart, never forget that okay?"<br>Hermione's beaming smile and soft peck on the lips was all Harry needed as he sat back and continued eating.

As he steadily ate his way through his Shepard's pie he thought about what had gone on today and as he mulled over the thoughts he had to take a breath to remind himself that he wasn't imagining things. Be had won all four of the duels he had been involved in, certainly Hermione had been involved in their doubles team and he respected her achievement as well, but he hadn't lost any matches today, that put him in the top seeds for the open grade tournament and he and Hermione would be in the top two teams for the doubles competition as well.

He was proud of his accomplishment, and looking at Fleur and Hermione on either side of him he knew they were proud too, it made his heart swell to know that despite Ron's absence he still had two friends who he could depend upon and he knew that the ginger prat (the name was thought with fondness) would be looking down approvingly on the new trio.

-:-

Fleur was honestly a fed up with her egg. She had done everything conceivable with the blasted thing, opened it under a pillow to try and muffle it enough to try and hear what the screeching words meant, thrown spells of all description at it, nothing worked. She was fairly certain that it was some kind of magical language, but it resisted every translation spell she threw at it.

She and Harry had agreed not to tell each other about the clue if they figured it out before the end of January. The idea was that neither of them wanted the other to fail horribly and potentially get hurt so they would tell each other what they had figured out at the beginning of February and share what they had to make sure they got through this. But by the same token they didn't want to cheat too badly, this was a nice compromise.

She lay back against her pillows on her bed in the Beauxbatons carriage and thought hard about her next move with the annoyingly cryptic egg. If it was an magic language then perhaps she could identify it by the sound and cross reference it with various texts eliminating the languages that it obviously was not until she had her result. She frowned slightly, while that would work it would be extremely slow and she wasn't sure she had the time to spend on it, but it was her only option at this point and she had to do something until she thought of a better plan.

Resolved she allowed herself to relax for a moment before throwing her thoughts at the next conundrum on her mind. Harry had performed admirably in the first task, arguably better than her. The problem was that explosion, no one had any idea who had prepped the device, the dragon keepers were all innocent and Fleur had heard Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were talking to Dumbledore about possible suspects among the student populace of all three schools.

She hated that Harry had to simply square his shoulders and walk into this each time, he didn't deserve to constantly be wondering what new danger would be awaiting him. That wasn't to say that he wasn't capable of defending himself, today's duel should have made it abundantly clear that he very much can. But that is very much beside the point, he shouldn't have to. He's a schoolboy of fourteen years, not a battle hardened Auror or Le Gendarmes Magique, or even someone who had volunteered to be in this ridiculous tournament.

Fleur reflected briefly on what had led her to this point, her father's belief in her, her insistence to prove that she was more than a pair of breasts, her peers degrading her with their attempted sexual predation and her own skill in duelling and other magical fields. Never let it be said that Fleur Marie Delacour was a slouch when it came to power or skill, top of her class in Beauxbatons, a fierce fighter, and a passionate learner. She was proud of her achievements. She just wished that was what people saw, not her looks.

The elegant Veela shook her beautiful head slightly before rolling to a sitting position and then shifting to her desk. Of the twenty odd students who had travelled to Hogwarts that year as far as she was aware Fleur was the only one who wasn't following her normal classes. Because of the tournament she had decided to take her exams in the summer next year after everything had blown over before looking into a job. She was more than ready for them, she had been for nearly six months.

She wondered how Harry was coping; she knew Diggory and Krum both were choosing not to attend classes but Harry had elected to continue with them. He was the youngest champion, hunted by some unknown force, struggling against the tasks with even more effort and skill than even the true champion from his school, a strong contender in the duelling competition. And yet, he still elected to continue with his normal life, still against all other issues decided that it would be better not to let it get to him and act as though nothing were amiss. She couldn't imagine how stressed he must be.

And yet, from Hermione she knew that Harry was happy as ever, probably happier than he had ever been, despite the death of his friend, despite everything else that was going on, he was happy. Fleur couldn't help but be proud that she was a part of that. She knew that outside of Hermione and her… their parents, he had few real friends. She was proud to be one of those privileged few. One of the very few who harry truly let into his heart.

And that was the kicker wasn't it? Harry was happy, he had a wonderful thoughtful and loving girlfriend who Fleur fully expected Harry to end up marrying one day, he had a great family as far as she could tell and he was happy, but she wasn't. Fleur Marie Delacour had a secret she had been keeping from the two of them for months now. That day in the antechamber of the Great hall in the castle, her magic had reached out to Harry, bonding the two of them together, irrevocably and inseparably. She could never be happy with anyone else, and yet, she could never be with him.

The beautiful Veela slumped forwards to the desk crying softly into the night like she had so many times before, painful sobs wracking her frame, she knew she could never come between them, even if she had wanted to claim him she could not, their own bond of love was just too strong. She was cursed by her nature, she would not ever truly be happy again, not while Harry still walked this Earth. And yet, she could never condone anything happening to him, not because of some esoteric bond or magical tie. But because he was her friend, despite anything else Harry had accepted her, taken her under his wing aware that she was just as hated as he had been before. They would always be friends she knew, and Fleur was happy for that small mercy on her soul.

He would never be hers she knew, but Fleur would be damned if she stopped being his, if even only his friend. Fleur wept long into the night.

-:-

The school was abuzz the next day with talk of the previous day's duelling. Harry had surprised everyone by beating the French champion with not only an astonishing display of skill and power for someone so young, but the same luck and opportunistic nature that had kept him alive through thick and thin. Hermione couldn't be prouder of him, she knew that her own performance yesterday had been fantastic for her abilities.

She didn't claim to be the strongest or most skilled sorceress; her best duelling talents lay in spell casting where she could out manoeuvre her foes with craftily placed combinations of spells from her massive collection of knowledge. But Hermione doubted she would ever be able to beat Harry in a duel, sorcery, spellcasting, take your pick, he was too strong, too fast, too reactionary to be taken down in any conventional sense by her.

She had seen him cast spells in class, unhindered now by his fear of the Dursleys learning of his intelligence, Harry had made massive leaps and bounds in his abilities, breaking through every barrier of knowledge thrown in his path. Quietly after charms one day Professor Flitwick had taken her aside and thanked her for bringing out Harry's scholarly nature and pushing him to succeed. Hermione had been forced to admit that she had only a fringe effect on his schooling, this was all him.

Seeing him yesterday, trading spells with Fleur unleashing huge amounts of power and battling to the end without so much as a pause. Identifying attacks, reacting to them with counters and dodges, catching spells on his duellist's shield that she hadn't even seen the French witch cast. It had been both a deeply moving and terrifying experience. She knew now that the duel she and Harry had been involved in against each other months ago was nothing but child's play for him, he had been going easy on her without even realizing it.

She can't imagine how Justin finch Fletchley must have felt, she wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes facing against Harry after he was still coming down from the magical high he had been on while he fought Fleur. Harry's first sorcel had been imbued with all of the might of the ones he had been throwing at Fleur and the air had ignited just the same behind the sorcel moving so fast that Justin hadn't even the presence of mind to move out of the way.

It had impacted the boy's shield with so much force that he was tossed from his feet and thrown against a pile of rubble unceremoniously. Desperately he had thrown sorcels at Harry who simply dodged them or batted them aside with his own sorcels. She had never seen that before and Moody had only hinted at the idea of countering an enemy's attack with your own. She had read the theory and had been dismayed at the concepts behind it, Harry would have had to know exactly what kind of sorcel Justin was using and thrown a different one in its path. The two magical forces wouldn't have been able to pass through each other, and the weaker one would be forced aside.

Aside from that Harry would have had to aim precisely to hit the other sorcel in mid-air, Justin's sorcels, while accurate, were not powerful and were almost invisible, making them nearly impossible to hit. Harry hadn't even broken a sweat. When he had approached Justin had tried throwing all his power behind a jab but Harry had nonchalantly flicked a cutter at his wrist forcing the sorcel wide before Harry's own jab had knocked the boy cold.

It was daunting then, to know that Harry barely even had elevated breath at the end of the fight and he had graciously accepted Justin's praise when he had been revived, strangely the duel had actually been a bonding experience for them and Harry had come away from the arena laughing at a comment the Hufflepuff had made.

Straight into Fleur's arms as she rushed ahead to hug him, Hermione sighed under her breath as she watched Harry munch his way through his bacon and eggs. He had no idea what he was doing to that poor girl, Hermione wasn't blind, she knew Fleur loved him, probably even more than she did because of her Veela nature. Harry had no idea though, he saw her as the closest of friends, but nothing more and it broke her heart a little to see Fleur watch him with a pained smile behind his back day after day.

If she had been any less of a Christian she might have considered sharing Harry with Fleur, but to someone like Hermione who had been raised in the Muggle world to parents who believed in monogamy, it was less than attractive. She snorted into her toast, what exactly was she considering here; A harem? Not happening, as much as she liked Fleur, Harry was hers, and she wasn't letting him go for anything, or anyone. He was perfect for her and she knew that she was probably the best person for Harry, she knew him too well to simply let him go.

She knew it would hurt Fleur to have to live with Harry only being her friend, but Hermione knew that would be preferable to the Veela than to have to let him go completely and take him out of her life, chances are she would be their friend for a long time. Hermione shot another look at Harry and silently thanked God that he was only interested in her, it would have broken her heart if he had gone to Fleur. She had no reason to be jealous of Fleur, for better or worse, Harry had chosen long ago who he loved and that wasn't changing any time soon.

-:-

The Great Hall emptied rapidly as students went to classes; Fleur saw Harry and Hermione off in the entrance hall as she had decided to throw a couple more hours into deciphering the egg. Harry had detected a note of sadness in her voice as she said goodbye and resolved to ask her about it later, when they both had time for that he had no idea but he would think of something. His year mates had become, for want of a better word, insufferable. Twice already this morning and four more times yesterday they had approached him and tried to wheedle out of him the secrets of his success against Fleur. He was getting tired of telling them he had no 'secrets' per se but rather a strong mental attitude towards success.

None of them had believed him, some even going so far as to claim that he had some kind of power over the French witch rooted in her Veela heritage. Amused and annoyed at the same time Harry sent them packing. The twins had been the most amusing, using their tag team style of speaking and bewildering Harry with their tongue in cheek titles they had gotten so far as to have him admit that he had nearly lost the bout because she was simply more skilled and only through chance and awkward positioning on the part of Fleur had carried the day. In mock disgruntlement they had left bemoaning loudly over their shoulders at him that they thought he trusted them more than that.

Chuckling he had headed to bed where, surprisingly Hermione had already been waiting for him with a tired smile and open arms. Thankful for small mercies they had fallen asleep together soon after, knackered from the day.

Today however something altogether more nasty happened.

-:-

As Harry and Hermione were heading to the Great Hall for dinner from the direction of the Arithmancy classroom they heard the high pitched drawl of their least favourite person, the words however made their blood chill.

"Alright you Veela slut, now that we have you where we want you why don't you tell us exactly why you let Potter beat you and what he's hiding. He shouldn't have survived that explosion in the first task. Tell us everything or I'm going to break you in a most enjoyable manner."

Harry had broken into a sprint without even thinking, his body was moving faster than he had ever felt it move before and he threw his whole effort into approaching the source of the sound. A loud scream was abruptly cut off, Fleur's scream.

Shouldering heavily at the classroom door that was between him and his best friend who was apparently in danger he found it locked. Hermione was just half a stride behind him and threw an alohomora at the lock without breaking stride. The door was nearly blasted inwards as Harry forced it open with a kinetic sorcel and he witnessed a sight that would give him nightmares for weeks.

Fleur was tied against a chair with heavy manacles that were glowing faintly and her face was bloody. Her elegant robes were ripped in several places and there was an bloody handprint on her chest above one of her breasts. Standing over her was Draco Malfoy his wand out and a spell on his lips with two seventh year Slytherins behind the chair holding Fleur's head back and her mouth open as they tipped a potion towards it. The blond boy turned to the intrusion with a snarl but Harry was quicker.

Moving rapidly he blew the potion out of the older boys' hands and then threw a petrification curse at both of them. Turning to Draco he snapped his left hand up catching Draco's jab mid-flight even as Hermione started to retaliate. Harry was rocked on his feet with the force of Draco's spell, Harry was powerful and his shield wasn't fazed, but Draco's strength wasn't inconsiderable. Even scarier was the elegance with which he was blocking and returning Hermione's sorcels, a bored but aggressive look on his face.

Harry didn't give him a chance to press the advantage and swept forwards in the small gap between them placing his fist squarely on Draco's jaw and cold clocking the boy to the ground with one smooth motion. Without stopping to catch his breath he was kneeling in front of Fleur and reaching for the manacles before her voice stopped him.

"Non! They are cursed! Do not touch them. They will bind you instead."  
>Frustrated Harry reached up and wiped her face with the pads of his thumbs, gently brushing the blood from her eyes and lips so that she could see and breathe properly. He heard Hermione binding Malfoy up in the background and doing the same to the other two as he made sure Fleur was alright.<p>

He didn't know where the rage had come from, but looking back he realized that he had been furious. He could understand anger at Fleur being hurt, even rage maybe. But what he had felt was so much more; it was as if Malfoy had been hurting Hermione. That was the only reaction he could ascribe it too, he would have reacted that way if Hermione was in danger or their parents. Did he really care for Fleur that much? More even?

He shook his head and looked into her tired eyes, they were unfocused, panicky and distraught gently he rubbed her upper arms with his hands and tried to comfort her as she came down from the fear of what had beset her. Gently he asked  
>"How did this happen Fleur?"<p>

Her eyes locked on his and for the first time showed real recognition  
>"Harry?"<br>He smiled wanly and nodded at her  
>"Yes Fleur it's me, you're safe, Hermione's got those three arseholes tied up and.." He turned to look at her briefly and she nodded before leaving.<br>"She's going to get a teacher. Can you tell me what happened? What did they do to you?"

Fleur took a deep shuddering breath and leaned forwards putting her head on his shoulder. Gently he wrapped her in a hug as best she could for a few moments then she started talking.  
>"I don't know how I got here, I was heading back to the castle for dinner and then I woke up with a deal of pain here. I think he slapped me. They put a silencer on me and the room but it must have worn off or maybe they lost their concentration. I'm lucky they didn't use a ward. He…" She stopped and harry stroked her hair tenderly trying to coax it out of her. His rage wasn't entirely spent and he needed her to keep talking so that he didn't take it out on Draco. As much as he wanted to he knew it wouldn't be his best idea.<p>

"They groped me for a while before punching me around a bit. They didn't say anything for so long, I don't know how long I've been here, what time is it?"  
>Harry spoke the time in a soft voice and she nodded<br>"Okay, probably no longer than half an hour then, but its felt like longer. After they got bored of their sick foreplay they got that potion out, I think it was veritaserum although God only knows where they got it, and the blond started talking."

Harry nodded again and shushed her gently as she started to sob softly into his shoulder  
>"It's okay, I'm here, nothing is going to happen now, I'm going to make sure he gets put in jail for this." He felt her nod softly against his shoulder and, mindful of the pressure on her wrists, held her in as tight a hug as the situation permitted. Behind him the door opened and Professor McGonagall's outraged voice filled the room.<p>

-:-

Fleur's whole body shook, her arms were still nearly numb and she could feel the pain in her beasts where the boys had painfully groped her. She was thankful for her bond to Harry, she didn't want even the possibility of her body enjoying those sick freaks had done. She wouldn't feel any pleasure from anyone but Harry ever again and she was so, so thankful for that now. Again her body was wracked with shudders as her tired limbs twitched beneath the covers of the hospital bed she was in.

Harry and Hermione were being questioned by the aurors who had been summoned to the school to pick the Malfoy boy and his buddies up and take them to holding cells at the ministry while their trials were being prepared. When Harry had burst through that door with all the rage of an avenging god on his face she had nearly fainted with relief. The sensation of utter calm that had washed over her for a moment when she saw him was something she relived over and over in her mind. It was such a heady feeling to know that even in the most dire circumstances surrounded by disgusting individuals she could feel calm in his presence. That hadn't lasted of course, him nearly touching the manacles had set off her panic once more and she had nearly lost it then and there.

Fleur, despite her otherworldly beauty and powerful attractive qualities, had never been raped before, not even attempted rape. The boys at Beauxbatons, while they were susceptible to the allure, were more than able to restrain themselves from doing anything further and were far too noble to even try such a despicable thing. She didn't know if it was because they were French or because Beauxbatons' standards were just higher but she had always been safe.

But today that had all changed, she had been at their mercies in that half hour, she didn't know how they had gotten her from the grounds of the castle to the third floor without being noticed but clearly they had, and with the manacles on that supressed her magic and bound her in place she had no defence. Her allure was useless and she couldn't cast a spell to free herself as they touched her with disgusting leers on their faces. She had, somehow, managed to stop them from reaching between her legs but she didn't know how long that would have lasted under the soporific effects of the truth serum.

Then Harry had been there, Harry had burst through that door and saved her, even going so far as to physically punch the blond boy. She knew, rationally, that Hermione had played a part in saving her too. But she couldn't break the feeling that she owed Harry deeply for his actions. Her thoughts were broken sharply as the doors opened again and Harry walked, no, stalked into the room. His body was a coiled mass of emotion; she could see his anger and hurt and some other emotion even from here. Hermione, much to Fleur's surprise, was nowhere to be seen.

The raven haired boy sat down on the chair next to her bed softly and without preamble took her hand in his own stroking the pad of his thumb across the back of her knuckles. His softly asked question nearly made her cry.  
>"How long Fleur? How long have you been dealing with this kind of thing?"<p>

At first Fleur was panicked had he figured out her magical crush on him? But she realized with a start that he was simply talking about the events of the day. She closed her eyes and answered him with as steady a voice as she could manage.  
>"This is the first time."<p>

She felt rather than saw his nod. The slight nudge of his hand as he relaxed into his caresses of her letting her know that he understood the implication, that she had been safe till she had come here. She didn't know where the feeling came from but suddenly he was all around her, his musk, the feeling of his hand on hers, she was even aware of the fact that he was sitting very close to her, his body leaned forwards with a tilt as if to throw himself to her defence again. All still with her eyes closed. Even when he spoke she was not surprised.

"I was so scared Fleur, so scared that of what they were doing to you. I heard him halfway down the corridor, that slinking scummy voice of his and the… lust. I could hear it in him, I… I wanted to _break_ him Fleur; I wanted to break every bone in his miserable worthless body. I wanted to shatter his mind; I wanted to destroy everything that he was when I knew that it was you they were… touching."

She nearly wept, the words coming from him, while not exactly romantic, were the kind of words she wanted to hear from him every day, protective, possessive even. She wanted him desperately to be this way with her always, to love her like he loved Hermione. To give into the feelings she knew he had and just take her. She wanted him to need her just as much as she needed him. She couldn't help it as her arms wrapped around him and pulled him close.

He didn't appear to resist and she felt his hands, placed ever so carefully, wrap around her waist and back and lift her slightly from the bed as they embraced. She hiccupped slightly as her tears started to run down her cheeks and she melted into him as his hand began rubbing her back in soothing circles. She didn't move a muscle as they held each other, terrified that any movement from her would make him end the close hold that he had on her. She _needed_ his touch, needed it like she needed air. His soft voice made her heart jump  
>"I love you Fleur, you know that right? You and Hermione have been there for me more than I could ever ask, and while she's my heart and soul, I think you're the closest friend outside of her that I will ever have. Thank you, so much, for being my friend and letting me into your life."<p>

This was it then, the extent of his feelings for her, he did love her and that made her feel like a million birds in flight, but at the same time she knew, with a touch of finality, that there could never be anything more. She couldn't push him away though, she couldn't force herself to make him leave and stop torturing her with his closeness. In the back of her mind a little voice told her that it was better they remain friends instead of not knowing each other at all and she clung to that, clung to that with every fibre of her being and without a shadow of doubt knew that they would always be friends, so long as they both should live. Quietly she asked him;  
>"Why were you angry before."<br>His voice chilled her to the bone  
>"The Auror's made it clear that Malfoy senior wouldn't let his son be prosecuted, that he would be coming back to Hogwarts."<p>

-:-

AN3: Well… I've finally accepted that my beta reader isn't getting back to me, expect quicker updates from now on.

AN4: Review Responses  
>Texan Muggle: Well… Okay then, thanks<p>

Femalefarrier: Yes ma'am

Guest review:  
>Too mature.<p>

A teenager dosent use a word like sweetheart.

Most teenagers dont drink tea.

-:-  
>I'm sorry… did I just read that? Despite my own hatred of tea and coffee I have plenty of experience with people my age and younger who do drink tea, and have done for years. As for sweetheart? I draw from my own experiences when writing (who doesn't) and I know full well that sweetheart is a word that teens will use to refer to their girlfriends, hell, I did when I was that age. *Blows immature raspberry before straitening waistcoat* where was I?<p>

Anotherboarduser: Glad to hear it, nice to know people are enjoying this.

Ceo55: Lots of ideas, might use some of them, hope this sheds some light on the relationship the three share

Vegasman: Me too… but Ron is dead remember?

Beyondthesea: h/hr will get much closer don't you worry, Draco's arse will get kicked in the near future, after writing the scene involving him in this chapter I'm hankering to cut off his bloody head. As for Ginny, she still has a part to play in all of this.

Taz: I could have sworn that I fixed that issue, /Shrug, it's fixed now, no threesomes, set that out at the start of the story, and as I said before… Ginny still has her part to play.

Arteh: /Bigshrug eehhhhhhh, I'm glad you like it but the story progression is more of a personal desire to see most of the early stuff out of the way so that we can progress into the actual plot, I'd like to remind you, (And all my other readers for that matter) that Harry won't be free to live his life in this story, at the end Voldemort will still be hanging over everyone's heads and Harry will still be in school, this is a 300K word fic dedicated to fourth year, then there will be fifth year, then sixth… you get the idea. The plot is extremely long and detailed and there were a few things I wanted to get out of the way early so that everyone wasn't focussing on them.

As always thanks for reading and other shenanigans, sorry about the latness of this chapter, my beta reader never got back to me with the fixed chapter so we'll be going without for the time being. See you in the next chapter!

LGreymark


	13. The Yule Ball, a bond, and Christmas

AN: Disclaimer as per usual, I don't own the HP universe and I don't make any money of it, here for the fun not the money yadda, yadda you know the drill.

AN2: Right well this story is once again up for Beta reader adoption. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't need it, my grammar and spelling is usually appalling. That said my beta hadn't done a particularly good job on picking up my blunders as I have just found out. I'm made huge lapses in judgement when it comes to how much of the term there is left for the school year.  
>So to clear things up here are the official dates from the first task:<br>November 24, Sunday: First task  
>November 29, Friday: Bobotuber pus incident<br>December 5, Thursday: Duelling round robin  
>December 6, Friday: End of term, Fleur's attack<br>December 9, Monday: Harry's tumble into the lake  
>December 15, Sunday: The ball<br>December 16, Monday: Everyone goes home for the holidays bar those stay on at the school.

I'm aware that this creates a period of about two weeks for students to ask other students to the ball, but because of my blunder the students of Hogwarts get a bit rushed. Additionally, the half dozen or so DADA classes obviously all slot in before the end of term, just fit them in where your head thinks they work best. Sorry for the mix up.

AN3: Also this chapter is really fluffy, like… really, really fluffy. Idk why I guess it's just where the story is at for them all to be reaffirming ties and bonds before the next upheaval. Tiny mention of smut too.

AN4: I realized recently that a lot of the conversations the trio have are over breakfast. Why on earth is that do you think?

AN4: Also, this chapter is really, really fracking long, my Lord.

-:-

Chapter Twelve: The Yule Ball a bond and Christmas break

Where was a Welsh Green when you needed one? Harry could happily have gone another round with the dragon than have to deal with the dozens of girls who had nervously approached him about the ball. After his show against the dragon, his status as a champion, the fact that he was Harry Potter and his impressive performance in the round robin for the duelling tournament he was being accosted on all sides by eager and nervous young women all hoping to snag the Boy Who Lived as a date to the up and coming Yule ball.

The fact that he was going to the ball with Hermione had somehow circulated around the school despite neither of them outright saying who they were going with, (Although the fact that they were dating was common knowledge) but that didn't stop them. Hermione had even been on the receiving end of a fairly high proportion of hate mail. Apparently Rita Skeeter had upped the ante and with the upcoming ball her campaign of slander and bigotry was reaching all-time high.

Harry couldn't be prouder of her though, despite it all Hermione was keeping her head held high and Harry thought that she had never looked more alive as the date came closer. The pair of them were spending more time together and Fleur was taking time out of her usual relentless assault on the egg to enjoy the run up to the holidays with her two best friends. Harry couldn't be more chuffed.

The egg was a problem though, he was fairly sure what needed to be done about it but he wasn't quite sure how to approach the problem. Clearly the sounds the egg made were from some kind of creature, but what kind? He had no idea where to look and he would have to beg Hermione for help soon. He really hoped that he would have at least a little information for when he and Fleur shared their findings.

Something had changed between Harry and Fleur, he didn't know what it was but if possible they were even closer than before, harry thought that it was mostly likely to do with the events surrounding Malfoy's second stint in Ministry holding cells. Hermione understood much to Harry's relief. Fleur was gorgeous and intelligent and friendly, but she wasn't Hermione, and Harry would have been devastated if Hermione had taken offense and given him up as a bad job.

Fortunately Hermione was extremely understanding stating that she would be much the same if she was in Fleur's position, there was a hidden meaning there that the young wizard didn't quite catch but he wasn't about to complain. He had a wonderful relationship with Hermione and Fleur was about as close a friend as she could be without actually dating him or doing anything that broke Hermione's trust or Harry's comfort.

That line of thinking was abruptly shut off as yet another stuttering fourth year tried to ask Fleur to the ball, smiling she gently let him down with a polite refusal. Harry wasn't sure why but she had refused anybody and everybody who had asked her. He would have more information on the topic but Hermione had strictly forbidden him from asking the French witch, apparently some things were better left unsaid.

That still left a lot of confusion for Harry to mull over, what was Fleur's hesitation? Was it the fact that none of the boys who asked her could hold eye contact for more than a second or two? Even without her allure on full bore? Was it something deeper? Was she waiting for someone specific to ask her? Harry had mentioned that possibility to Hermione last night and, strangely, he had gotten a surge of jealousy from her through their burgeoning mental link.

-:-

"It's not for me to say why Harry, she's got her reasons and I'll not betray her trust by talking about them."  
>Harry was understandably annoyed at the sharp tone of her voice and the irrational jealousy that was surrounding him from her.<br>"Have you talked to her about it then?"  
>"No"<p>

The short, sharp reply annoyed Harry even more  
>"Then how do you know about it?"<br>"Call it a woman's intuition if you must, why are you so interested anyway?"  
>There was that jealousy again, and the fact that he didn't know why Hermione was feeling jealous of Fleur really bothered him, usually Hermione was an open book to him or she patiently explained her feelings.<p>

That Hermione wasn't explaining things like she normally did set off alarm bells in the young wizard's mind but he had no way of following them up without Hermione getting annoyed at him, and he definitely didn't want that, the last time they had gone to bed with an unresolved argument hanging over their heads she had retired to her own dorm for the first time in months; the fact that she had then rushed to him in the morning for a make-up kiss notwithstanding.

Answering her question was harder however, why was he so interested?  
>"I don't honestly know, I guess I'm just being curious."<br>Hermione gave him a sceptical look but let the matter drop, instead she snuggled closer to him on the bed and truly opened her thoughts to him. Harry eagerly reciprocated and the two of them happily fell into enjoyment of each other's love.

When they reluctantly closed the connection a few minutes later from fear of forgetting to before sleeping, Hermione looked him in the eye and said.  
>"Fleur thinks very highly of you Harry, she trusts you and you and I are probably her only friends outside her family. Don't break that trust by snooping into her affairs, if she wants to tell you, she will."<p>

-:-

That had been three days ago and yet still Fleur was turning down everyone who asked. He idly wondered if she already had a date and wanted it to be a surprise. That explanation seemed just as likely as any and he mentally let the matter drop in favour of thinking about the upcoming ball itself.

Neither he nor Hermione had actually purchased dress robes yet, and he was well aware that Hermione had been eyeing up a dress in Muggle London for the event from one of her catalogues. There would be a Hogsmeade weekend just before the ball where the two of them could get their purchases, Harry would send Hedwig off tonight with Hermione's measurements so that it would be ready when the weekend rolled around.

He couldn't help but glance sideways at Hermione, who he found was glancing back with a soft and tender smile on her face, he was overwhelmed by his feelings of love and gratitude for the brunette witch and grinned, leaning across to kiss her gently, her eyes fluttered shut for a second or two before they broke the chaste but loving kiss. Harry's hand came up to her cheek and held her close as he looked into her eyes.  
>"I love you Hermione, more than I can rightly say, be mine; always?"<p>

He felt his heart pound in his chest as her now familiar mind touched his and he felt, rather than saw, her happiness and love as it poured across and into him, her soft words making his heart soar.  
>"I love you too Harry, just like always, and yes, I'll be yours, forever."<br>Harry hummed in happiness before sitting back with a giddy look on his face. Kissing her always did that do him.

What he didn't miss was the bittersweet smile on Fleur's face as she watched them, he felt a weird pang in his heart as she looked at him with eyes filled with a mixture of happiness and longing that he couldn't pin down. Tentatively he reached across the table to take her hand and said  
>"Fleur, is everything okay?"<p>

Fleur seemed to gulp a bit before nodding, and with a throaty voice responded to his question, her accent thick.  
>"Yes Harry, I'm fine, I just wish I had someone to love me like you do Hermione."<br>Harry grinned in his usual lopsided fashion  
>"I'm sure there's someone out there for you Fleur, it'll happen when it happens."<p>

To his surprise Fleur took her hand back and looked away  
>"Non, I have already found him, but he is claimed by another."<br>Harry frowned, something was niggling at the back of his head but he couldn't pin it down.  
>"I'm sorry to hear that Flower, any chance of convincing him into your arms?"<p>

Fleur looked up a little shocked  
>"How do you think Hermione would feel if someone did that to you Harry?"<br>He really had no idea how close to home her question was, his frown morphed into that grin again  
>"I'd say she'd be more than capable of holding my attention."<p>

Fleur's amused grunt confused Harry a little, but not nearly as much as her reply  
>"We'll there's your answer then."<br>"What do you mean?"  
>Hermione chose that point to interject<br>"She means that whoever she's going after is in the same position as you, very much in love with someone else and off limits."

The stress Hermione put on the last two words and her stern look at Fleur only served to confuse Harry even further and, to dispel the sudden awkwardness he leant over his plate and dug in, finally eating his breakfast.

The meaningful look that Fleur shared with Hermione went right over his head.

-:-

"What's going on Fleur? I know there's something going on between you and Harry but I don't know what it is."  
>Fleur sat heavily on her bed in the Beauxbatons carriage next to the brunette. Harry was busy with his egg and both witches picked the opportunity to get some good meaningful conversation in.<br>"It's is… tres embarrassante, I have… my magic has…"

Fleur heard Hermione's breath catch in her throat, Fleur smiled from behind her curtain of silvery hair, she was always bright.  
>"My magic has bonded with him."<br>"Oh"  
>Hermione's small exclamation sounded rather pathetic after that assertion.<p>

"I don't intend to get between the two…"  
>"But Fleur that's torture for you , it must be horrible!"<br>The beautiful French witch battle with her tears as Hermione wrapped her in a hug  
>"I'm so, so sorry Fleur, I had no idea, what can we do?"<p>

Fleur wrapped a shaky arm around Hermione's shoulders and said softly  
>"There is nothing we can do, I will not be party to breaking you two up, your bond with him is clearly as strong as mine, I will not trade my torture for your own."<br>"But… Surely there must be a way to break the bond."  
>Fleur snorted<br>"Either one of us could die yes, that would do it."

Hermione's arms tightened around her waist  
>"Not happening."<br>"I know Hermione, I would never want him hurt, he is more than just a bond mate to me, he is my closest friend, closer even than you ma souer. "  
>She heard Hermione's choking sob and much to her dismay that set off her own tears, the two witches held each other and rocked slightly from side to side in commiseration over the pain Fleur went through daily.<p>

-:-

"Can you show me?"  
>They had broken apart some minutes later and Hermione was determined to understand what Fleur was going through, she nearly giggled at the sight of Fleur's bemused face<br>"Show you what?"  
>"How it feels for you, every day."<p>

Hermione swallowed nervously as she watched the gears turn in Fleur's head, even asking this was doing a number on her nerves, she had no idea how Fleur felt.  
>"I wouldn't know how"<br>"Well… I can think of two obvious ways, one of them much more irreversible than the other."  
>Fleur raised an eyebrow at that and Hermione admired the perfectly sculpted line of hair for a moment<br>"What would those ways be then ma souer?"

Hermione finally cottoned on to what Fleur was calling her  
>"Fleur… I'm not… I'm not your sister?"<br>"You might as well be Hermione, admit it"  
>Hermione had to grudgingly admit that the beautiful witch beside her was correct, despite the nationality, heritage and appearance differences they shared a lot in common, both were very studious, fiercely passionate, very emotional and in love with the same boy, no, man.<p>

"Okay, okay, _ma souer_, I admit we are very much alike."  
>She laughed as Fleur nodded in triumph, and after a second the older witch joined in happily and the two shared a good belly laugh for a few moments.<br>"It really wasn't that funny was it?" Hermione asked ruefully  
>"Non, it was not, but your laugh is infectious Hermione. Now tell me about these options."<p>

"Well…" Hermione was nervous again now, neither of the options were very appealing, but would serve their purposes.  
>"The first, and honestly most problematic option, is that you kiss Harry."<br>She couldn't help but smile when Fleur choked slightly  
>"Pourquoi?!"<p>

-:-

"Because then my own bond would give me the same feelings you have."  
>Fleur raised her hand<br>"Okay hold on, first things first, tell me about this bond you have with harry, mine's quite straightforward, my magic identified him as the most compatible person for me and bonded us, although it is incomplete, hence my pain. But yours is more esoteric and I'd like to know about it."  
>She didn't mention the other effects of the bond created by her Veela heritage, such as her inability to ever gain sexual pleasure or release with another partner or her ability to sense Harry's position and presence within a several hundred meter radius.<p>

Fleur watched as Hermione took a deep breath then said with apparent trepidation  
>"Okay, you get that we love each other right? Like more deeply than usual."<br>Fleur nodded urging her on with her intense gaze  
>"Right… Well, it sort of also extends to us being able to touch each other's magic."<br>"Oh"  
>It was Fleur's turn to let out a pathetic sound of exclamation as she understood the full implications of that little piece of information.<p>

"And you do this… regularly?"  
>Hermione gave her an affirmative nod<br>"Pretty much whenever we see each other we spend a few seconds merged. Our endurance is building quite rapidly, only a month ago we could barely stay joined for an instant."

Fleur took a deep breath, until now she truly had no idea just how deep the bond between them ran, that they were connected on a mental and magical level was more than she had guessed, she knew that before too long that would become a spiritual connection too.

"Okay… So you two definitely have a bond, somehow I don't think Harry will be comfortable with your first suggestion. It will raise too many questions and he doesn't deserve to have this hanging over his head, it's not his fault he's so damn perfect."  
>Hermione took a slightly deeper breath then said in a rush<br>"Use an empathy spell on me."  
>Fleur was more than a little shocked<br>"But Hermione… that's permanent."

-:-

Harry was fed up, the egg was still resisting his efforts to determine anything useful from its cacophonous wails. He was way out near the black lake away from prying ears who might get annoyed at the reverberating wails of the golden monstrosity. The young teen was sitting cross-legged on a spur of rock that jutted out over the lake, the egg in front of him and latched tightly shut for the time being.

Tentatively he reached forwards and twisted the latch. The egg sprang open eagerly and harsh screeching sounds rattled out from the glowing core of the egg. Several agonizing minutes went past as Harry listened hard to the egg, eventually he closed it with a snap, feeling frustrated. He was about to give up for the day when a pair of elegant voices called up to him from the ground, looking down he spotted, to his great surprise, not Fleur and Hermione, but rather Daphne and Tracy. The two Slytherins, clearly curious, had meandered their way over to the sound of the horrific wails.

"What're you up to up there Harry? It's an awful racket you're making." It seemed Daphne was their mouthpiece. Harry grimaced and hefted the egg showing it to them over the lip of the rock  
>"Trying to decipher this thing, it wails when I open it, supposed to be a clue to the next task."<br>Daphne and Tracy shared an amused look  
>"We thought you might have been murdering your girlfriend's cat away from prying eyes."<p>

Harry laughed and twisted around to sit on the edge and look down at the two girls who, while not far below, were still uncomfortable to look at on an angle.  
>"Nah, Crookshanks and I have an agreement, what're you two doing out here anyway?"<br>"Mostly just came to see what the horrific noise was, have you got any ideas on the egg yet?"

Harry growled softly under his breath making the two girls laugh  
>"Nothing yet, I think it's some kind of creature but beyond that? No clue."=<br>"Ah well, we'll send you a message if we think of anything okay?"  
>Harry looked at them with a hint of shock<br>"You'd do that?"

Tracy smirks and finally speaks  
>"We want to see a Hogwarts victory, and after watching Cedric get chased around by the Horntail for half an hour before failing the task, we think you're the school's best bet."<br>This was news to harry  
>"Cedric failed the task?"<br>Daphne nodded and answered the question  
>"Yup, didn't get his egg and had to be stretchered off."<p>

Harry frowned  
>"So how's he supposed to know what's coming then?"<br>The two girls shrugged in unison after glancing at each other and said in tandem  
>"No idea."<br>Harry's frown grew before the two girls left saying their goodbyes, if one of the champions didn't know what was going on than how would they compete? He had no idea what the next task was going to be and he _had_ a clue.

A shrieking sound caught Harry's attention and he turned to see the egg, somehow opened, rolling off the rock, clearly he hadn't put it down in a safe place and the smooth golden egg had rolled clean off the rough surface of the outcrop. Harry swore loudly and scrambled to the edge of the rock only to see the egg hit the water with a splash. Swearing Harry ran over his options quickly, the outcrop extended several meters out over the lake and the water would already be quite deep there, if he took the time to go around and get to ground level before diving into the lake the egg would be much deeper.

Glaring at the cold water Harry stripped off his robes shirt and shoes as quickly as he could before throwing himself off the rock and into the water four meters below. When Harry hit the icy surface of the lake with a splash, streamlined as best he could to spear into the water, he realized why this was a terrible idea, he didn't know how to swim.

Harry started kicking as hard as he could the wry thought coming to mind that he only had to go down for the moment, he would worry about getting out when he got to that point. It didn't take him long to find the egg as he frantically powered downwards, growing in proficiency even as he did so. The egg, for all its weight, didn't seem to want to sink very fast, something Harry was grateful for as it shortened the trip greatly.

What did surprise him was the ethereal singing coming from the egg, the strange music was clearly his clue but he didn't have the time to concentrate on it as he wrapped his arms around the egg and thrust it ahead of himself before using a sorcel to propel it out of the water and towards land, he barely noticed that it took much more effort than usual to do the sorcel. Then it was just a matter of him getting out.

He struggled upwards, his lungs burning with stale oxygen, his limbs heavy in the freezing mid-December water and his vision was growing foggy and even as he saw a pair of lithe forms spear into the lake his vision turned black.

-:-

The white wooden ceiling of the hospital wing was more than familiar to the raven haired teen as he groggily opened his eyes. Even without his glasses Harry could make out the lines between the boards and he knew that once again he was in the matron's care.

Sound returned in bursts for the young man as if he was still listening through the water in the lake, exclamations of happiness and relief, tutting, and even an outraged yell at one point as the tired young man listened to what was going on around him, to tired even to lift his head.

He felt drained, totally and utterly drained, as if his magic had fled his body, he vaguely remembered his kinetic sorcel being far weaker than normal in the water but he brushed it off as being nothing more than the increased viscosity of the liquid over the air. Moody had discussed with the class not three days ago how trying to push objects through denser or more viscous materials required more energy.

His thoughts were broken by a mane of bushy brown hair that obscured his vision and a frantic hug that pulled him close to Hermione's chest. He could hear her words coming to him in a muddied sense and he did his best to mumble that he was okay.

-:-

The next few hours were something of an experience for Harry, a pepper up potion got him back on his feet but he still felt extremely drained. Apparently he had nearly drowned and his body was still recovering, his magical core had been sapped by the water too but Madame Pomfrey wasn't sure why, Dumbledore it seemed hadn't turned up yet.

It seemed most everyone else had though, Prof. McGonagall had popped in for a few minutes to make sure he was okay, Daphne and Tracy were on his left and Fleur and Hermione were on his right. His mind briefly cracked a joke about having four beautiful women waiting on him before he ruthlessly quashed it.

Harry had panicked for a moment about where his egg was but Hermione had quickly reassured him that it was back in his dorm, his thoughts then turned to how he had gotten out of the lake. Daphne, surprisingly answered that question when it was voiced.  
>"Well when we heard the shrieking start up again we turned to watch for a second more but all we saw was you hastily stripping down and diving into the water, when the egg popped up a few seconds later but you didn't surface we dashed forwards to help. It was a bit of a struggle getting you out of the lake but we managed it eventually. By that point you were blue and unconscious though, Trace screamed for help while Iran back to the castle."<p>

Hermione was holding his hand tenderly and he couldn't take his eyes off her, she was watching him with the most tender worried expression he had seen, what surprised him was an almost identical look of worry from Fleur, her throaty demand finally reached him.  
>"Don't keep doing this to us Harry, you have no idea how hard it is to sit here hoping you'll wake and seeing no sign of life from you."<p>

Harry's first instinct was to disagree, he knew exactly how it felt, Hermione had spent several months in here completely lifeless in their second year. He had been every day to see her, to hold her petrified hand tenderly and smooth back her hair from her cold skin. It had been a gruelling experience for him, Ron hadn't fared much better, he and Hermione, despite their bickering, had been close friends, not as close as her and himself, but still close.

What came out of his mouth by way of reply though was much different.  
>"Sorry Fleur, I can't help it sometimes you know?"<br>Her annoyed huff made him smile and he caught the curling of Hermione's lips as well. What surprised him though was when Fleur swooped down and kissed both his cheeks before sitting back, not a touch of abashment on her face.  
>"At least we still have you with us, I couldn't bear to see you…"<p>

She didn't need to finish that sentence, he knew all to well what it was like to lose a close friend. A soft voice from his other side broke them from their locked eyes.  
>"We should go, not our entire house is on the Potter Bandwagon, and if we stay here too much longer someone is bound to cotton on."<br>Harry turned to see Daphne and Tracy heading for the door, they both gave him a smile and he threw his lopsided grin back at them.

"Thanks for getting me out of the lake, if you need anything, just sing out okay?"  
>Their answering chuckles made him feel a little cornered, he wondered if it was a Slytherin talent.<br>"be careful who you offer those kind of favours to Harry, not everyone is as decent as us. Have a good day you three."  
>And with that they were gone, through the door and likely back do their dorms. It had been just past lunch when he had leapt into the lake, meaning that Harry had been brought to the hospital just past one in the afternoon; it was still only late afternoon.<p>

Only then did his discovery come back to him  
>"Fleur are you still adamant that you don't want me to give you any clues before January?"<br>Cottoning on Fleur asked slowly  
>"Did you find something out today about the egg?"<br>Nodding slowly he responded  
>"Yeah, and I don't think either of us are going to like it."<p>

The beautiful young woman looked like she was thinking hard for a moment before eventually saying  
>"Go on then, no point in making this harder for myself."<br>When harry told her that the clue was discovered underwater the draining of colour from her face scared him more than a little.  
>"Mon Dieu."<p>

-:-

This was, altogether, a very bad thing. Fleur knew of only one race of creatures that lived under water and would even begin to participate with Humans, and Mermaids were not fond of Veela, not by any stretch. Add that to the fact that this task would probably be taking place under water? It was like Madame Maxime had signed her death warrant.

Any further introspection and worry was abruptly cut short as the hospital wing doors opened, it wasn't the usual slam that everyone seemed to be so fond of around Hogwarts but rather the smooth opening of Dumbledore's arrival. Fleur watched in apprehension, and not a small amount of annoyance, as the old wizard came to the foot of Harry's bed. She was further annoyed when the headmaster spoke  
>"I would ask you to leave Miss Delacour. What I am about to speak of doesn't concern you."<p>

Fleur was about to give the old man a piece of her mind when Harry's croaky voice spoke up with a strange tone, it brooked no disagreement  
>"She stays sir. Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of my friend."<br>Fleur stifled her grin as Dumbledore turned the full blast of his piercing eyes on Harry and the younger wizard didn't even flinch.

Dumbledore gave a nod then and spoke clearly  
>"We've discovered who fired the sorcel that nearly killed you on November twenty fourth. "<br>Fleur's mouth dropped open in shock, and from the silence from Hermione she assumed the same. Harry's voice however was deadly cold as he asked the headmaster  
>"Who was it?"<p>

Without preamble Dumbledore spoke a single sentence  
>"The person who fired the sorcel was a Miss Janet Rousseau of Beauxbatons Academy of…"<br>"NON"  
>"Excuse me Miss Delacour?"<br>Fleur couldn't believe it, she knew Janet, she was a sweet, shy unassuming girl who wouldn't hurt a soul  
>"She cannot have, I know her Headmaster, she wouldn't have done such a thing, let alone had the power."<p>

Dumbledore shook his head slowly  
>"We have memory evidence, Miss Rousseau was placed under the imperious curse on the date of October fourth and for over a month had been storing energy in a specially designed sump provided for her by an anonymous helper. Under cover of disillusionment she hid the device inside the cornucopia of the arena and activated it with a chosen phrase from the stands. The sump exploded with the force of a powerful Muggle bomb causing the destruction you saw and experienced."<p>

Fleur sat back in her seat stunned beyond belief as Dumbledore kept talking, unable to process what was going on  
>"She has been released to the care of Saint Mungo's hospital for extensive medical treatment. She was raped and brutally assaulted several times over the course of the last three months and has been under the imperious curse far longer than any recent documented cases; her mind is for want of a better word, shattered."<p>

-:-

Hermione was shocked nearly to the point of disbelief, only one thing remained to be answered, fortunately Harry had the question on the tip of his tongue, she didn't know if she could trust herself to speak.  
>"Firstly, what's the Imperious curse? Secondly, who cursed her? Do we know?"<br>Hermione watched as the aging headmaster flicked harry his piercing gaze again.  
>"You will learn about the curses in one of your upcoming defence against the dark arts lessons. Suffice it to say that it is highly illegal and allows the control of another person totally."<p>

The older man took a deep breath and Hermione really, really didn't like the look on his face.  
>"The culprit however is still at large."<br>There was an explosion of sound as the doors slammed open once again and the booming tones of Olympe Maxime sounded through the hospital wing, the large woman looked directly at Fleur.  
>"Fleur! There you are, come child the carriage leaves in an hour."<p>

The slightly less volatile tones of Mr Crouch followed behind,  
>"I've told you once I'll tell you a thousand times Madame, if you remove Fleur Delacour from this competition then you are condemning her, Mr Potter, Mr Diggory and Mr Krum to at best, a life time without magic, at worst, death of the most horrible kind."<p>

Olympe rounded on the relatively smaller man  
>"What then do you expect me to do? Stay here and allow my students to be cursed and made to attempt murder?"<br>Crouch was starting to look angry, a sight that was, to Hermione at least, somewhat amusing, his rather thick moustache bristled as if it had its own indignant personality  
>"You cannot run from this Madame, the tournament is a binding…"<br>"Binding magical contract, yes, yes we've heard you prattle on about your contracts before Mister Crouch. But the safety of twenty of my students is more important than the safety of four. I cannot in good conscience condemn these students to be on this hostile soil any longer."

Hermione flinched at that, she understood where Maxime was coming from; this wasn't about the tournament anymore, or even about safety. This was politics, in its rawest most disturbing form. She would make the champions martyrs to her cause without even a second thought, whip the French populace into an outrage that the daughter of their head of DMLE was killed on British soil. Never mind the situation.

She might disagree with Dumbledore on a great many points, such as sending Harry to the Dursleys or his continued ignorance of the boy who he owed so much to, but when he drew himself up to his full (rather impressive) height and stared up at the half giant with all the cold fury a man of a hundred and fifty could produce. She found herself agreeing with what he said quite strongly.  
>"Then take your students home, Karkaroff can take his home as well then the pair of you can return to judge the rest of the tournament. Miss Delacour and Mr Krum are more than welcome to stay at the castle until the tournament is over, we have the spare room let me assure you."<p>

Much to Hermione's amusement Maxime didn't have an answer for that, rather she turned and stormed, rather immaturely, out of the hospital wing, Crouch in hot pursuit badgering her about this or that. She turned to her Headmaster and said quietly  
>"Thank you sir."<p>

-:-

Harry watched with increased incredulity as the French Headmistress callously consigned him and the other three champions to death for her own ends. He might not have been as astute as Hermione on the topic but he was well aware of what a two faced statement looked like, and the French woman was spouting them en masse.

Dumbledore's defence of him and the other champions however came as something of a mixed surprise, on the one hand this was the man who had condemned him to living thirteen abusive years of beatings, whippings and neglect. On the other hand this was also the man who was supposed to be the greatest leader of Wizarding Britain since Merlin, Harry didn't even count Fudge. The pompous little toe rag was barely a politician, at worst he was more of a puppet filled with Galleon bribes.

Hermione's quiet thanks woke Harry from his stupor and he instinctively wrapped his arms around Fleur who had, in the confusion, ended up on his other side as first she had gotten up out of habit when Madame Maxime entered, then walked to her when she said they were leaving, again more out of habit and respect than anything else, then abruptly fled when she heard the full terms. Dumbledore was in the way of getting back to her former seat at that point and so she took the other route back to Harry's side.

Now of course she was looking shell shocked and in need of comfort so harry did his best to provide as he glared up at Dumbledore.  
>"Don't let them hurt her, or any of us. Or I will come back as a ghost and haunt you till the end of your days."<br>Dumbledore gave him a grave nod and swept out of the hospital wing, hopefully to organise accommodations for Fleur and Victor.

He shared a worried look with Hermione as Albus left and Fleur clung to him. Things were rapidly spiralling out of control, the various factions represented at Hogwarts were splintering and violence was everywhere. The world cup, Draco's repeated assaults on them, the first task, now politics were being shoved into the mix, and above it all there was the ever present threat of Voldemort's new right hand man.

Harry shuddered in memory of the thin character who had so callously struck out at Hermione only to slaughter Ron. He hadn't thought about the man, who styled himself as Valmortis for weeks and months, but the memory of the man's fell tones from behind the bone white mask had been permanently etched into Harry's mind and they came rushing back now.

"We'll be seeing each other again shortly."

-:-

The rest of the day was tense, Karkaroff had, surprisingly, been more than happy for his students to stay, even going so far as to request they be granted semi-permanent quarters within the castle. Harry could only fathom that within the castle walls was the safest place to be and Karkaroff knew it. Additionally he had no idea how long it would take them to travel by boat, even magical boat, back to where they had come from. They might have arrived home only for Karkaroff to have portkeyed back to find the tournament over.

Krum had come to the hospital wing shortly before they had left, tailed closely by Cedric, and the four of them had reassured one another that they were in this for the long haul and wouldn't back out. The feeling of mutual camaraderie was short-lived however as, just like at the choosing, the other two boys went their separate ways shortly after leaving; Alliances of convenience indeed.

Fleur had been beyond distraught for much of the afternoon, and only when she had calmed down sufficiently to talk did Harry understand her full distress. Not only was her Veela nature going to make the second task nigh on impossible, but she had seen Madame Maxime as something of a close family friend for much of her life. Before becoming headmistress she had been an extremely well known la Gendarmes Magique working under her Father in the DMLE.

The idea that a woman she had long considered part of her family could so callously throw aside, not only her life, but Harry's Cedric's and Victor's as well, for nothing more than a political upheaval? It was unconscionable; as Harry understood it Fleur couldn't even begin to get her head around the amount of deception involved in convincing her family of a personality that was so obviously a front.

Another weird event to spring up out of the day was an agreed on Champions quarters. Dumbledore and Karkaroff had led the four champions to the seventh floor of the castle; Madame Maxime having already left for France with the rest of the Beauxbatons delegates. Once there Dumbledore had explained the purpose of them having separate quarters from the rest of the school and how to access them.

Really it boiled down to a safety concern and it was rather simple to get in, they just had to pace in front of the blank stretch of wall three times thinking that they had to get into the champions quarters. Inside was an octagonal common room with rooms coming off on the four corners, one for each Champion.

They had been told quite sternly, especially the boys, that the doors were charmed to only let through the Champion they were keyed to. Harry was in mixed minds about this, on the up side the room he had been assigned was awesome, on the down side Hermione wouldn't be able to slip into his bed at night for them to sleep together as they had been doing now for months. He didn't know if he would be able to get decent sleep on his own anymore.

Fortunately at least Hermione and their other friends were able to enter the dorms by being keyed in by the Champions themselves and they ended up being quite comfortable. One would have thought that with the closer quarters the four champions would have revived the previous camaraderie they shared and kept it alive, but it was not to be, only Harry and Fleur of the four shared any kind of real friendship.

-:-

Later that night after he and Fleur had finally said goodnight after talking till nearly midnight, Harry was slipping into the warm Gryffindor coloured sheets and was lamenting Hermione's absence when a sharp click sounded through the room. Sitting bolt upright and casting his lumos wandlessly he looked around the room light pouring from his fingertips. Abruptly he realized what he had managed to do even accidentally and the light promptly went out as he lost concentration.

Scrabbling angrily he found his wand and lit it normally, looking around the room he spotted a new door, one that did not lead to his en suite bathroom or the common room. Curiously he got up from the bed and walked cautiously to the door. Feeling a bit foolish he opened it carefully and said in a hushed voice;  
>"Hello?"<p>

What he saw made his mouth curve into a grin, Hermione was laying on her back with her legs spread and fingers working furiously at the apex of her thighs. His quiet question startled her and she screeched in shock throwing a sorcel at him which he instinctively blocked. Only then did he realize that the door had opened behind Hermione's headboard on her four poster bed in the girls' common room.

"Harry? Sorry I… What are you doing here? Where the hell did that door come from?"  
>Hermione's hushed interrogation made him frown, she was hastily covering herself up more in shock than anything else, they had seen each other masturbate before.<br>"I don't know, I was just thinking about how much I missed you when this door popped up in my room. I opened it, and here I am."

Hermione's face twisted into a frown and she looked nervously around  
>"We'll it's really obvious, shut it for me for a sec, we need to know if it's always visible."<br>Harry did so, counted to ten then opened it again to Hermione's grinning face.  
>""It disappears, this is going to be even easier than it was before, all you'll have to do is just let me into your room each night. C'mon, let's try out that bed."<p>

Grinning Harry stepped back as Hermione clambered through the doorway and into his room in the champion's quarters.  
>"Where do you reckon the door came from?"<br>Harry didn't know and he certainly didn't care as he kicked the door shut and enveloped his beautiful girlfriend in a passionate embrace, some stress relief was just what they needed right now, Hermione's giggled 'Silencio' was music to his ears.

-:-

Fleur was having an altogether more lonely night as she cuddled down under the strangely familiar duvet. It was, as far as she could tell, a perfect replica of the one in her room back at the Delacour mansion; that aside she missed Harry, it was pathetic and stupid and dumb. But even bare minutes after she had said goodnight to him in the common room her heart was already pining for him.

She loved talking to him, he had a way of making her feel safe and wanted that she couldn't rightly explain, maybe it had to do with her unrequited feelings for him but she could happily spend all day in his presence, and all night too. Naughty thoughts rose unbidden to the forefront of her mind of a very naked Harry looming over her. She repressed the feelings as well as she could but, inevitably and like always, she gave into the images sweeping through her mind of the wiry and somewhat muscular young man making love to her.

Nearly an hour later she fell into a fitful and restless sleep, release only bringing her even more seductive images of the raven haired Champion as her bond sought to push her closer and closer to her mate. She didn't know how she was going to be able to stand this for much longer, hopefully it got easier with age.

-:-

The days passed by rapidly now as the Yule ball quickly approached. It was to be held early so that the students could head home for the holidays if they wished the Yule ball was to be held just a week after the end of the first task on December the first. The dawn of that day saw Harry Fleur and Hermione clustered around the fire in 'their' new common room. Cedric still tended to hang out in the Hufflepuff common room and Krum preferred to spend time with the rest of the Durmstrang delegates. So Harry, Fleur and Hermione often had the Champion's common room entirely to themselves and took great advantage of this by pushing the larger couch closer to the fire and sitting happily under a large blanket to chat.

At some point during the last few days Harry assumed Hermione had talked to Fleur about something because one evening he ended up with Hermione cuddling up to his left side and Fleur up his right as they talked that evening. He didn't overly mind, Hermione cuddled up to him was a regular occurrence and he and Fleur had never been closer. It was often awkward when Cedric came back for the evening wolf whistling however. More than once he had dashed to the confines of his room laughing as jinxes followed him closely.

That morning however only he and Fleur were sitting on the couch, Harry's arm casually draped across her shoulders as she leaned sideways into him, reading a French novel. Hermione had yet to arrive in their common room for the day before they headed down to breakfast. The conversations he shared with the French witch were fun and light for the most part, but they had shared deeper talks as well. Most anything was fair game in their late night conversations after Hermione had headed back to her common room to do some last minute study before 'sleep'.

Though he didn't mind he often found their deep friendship something of a confusion for him, for instance, Fleur was quite comfortable talking to him about his and Hermione's sex life, giving him stick about various hilarious moments (After Fleur had openly come out and said that she and Hermione talked behind his back and that it was only fair he got to do the same he had learned to become quite comfortable sharing things with her). Hermione had confessed to quite enjoying her 'girl talk' sessions with Fleur.

But at the same time even mentioning who Fleur was interested in caused the beautiful young woman to clam up unexpectedly and return to whatever pastime she was doing. It was a strange dichotomy and not one Harry ever expected to understand, he was after all, just a man.

Talk of the Tri Wizard Tournament was less fraught with potential landmines but no less tense. They had discussed in depth their options for completing the second task but nothing had come to mind for either of them. Harry's inability to swim and Fleur's issues with water and Merpeople had thrown up significant roadblocks in their quest for solutions. Carefully the three of them had gone down to the lake one evening and taken turns listening to the egg under the water and it was very clear to them what they had to do. Hermione had assured both Harry and Fleur that the hour time limit was probably more of a points threshold than anything else. They calmed from their panic, only to settle into dread as they realized just what an hour underwater entailed for both of them.

What was worse was that they were both forced to compete, and hanging over everything was the possibility that someone might sabotage the event to take another pot shot at Harry. None of them were happy about it and ideas were unforthcoming. Harry assured them both that he would swallow his pride and talk to Dumbledore about the task before the end of January.

As Harry ran all of these thoughts through his head he mulled over his own, private concern. Why had he nearly lost his magic under water? He could understand physical exhaustion, even some magical drain as his magic sought to keep his body afloat in his panic.

But all modesty aside Harry was a powerhouse, he could cast wandless charms at the age of fourteen, albeit only Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa so far but it was still impressive. As Hermione had explained to him Wands were sources of magical magnification. They took the magic a witch or wizard poured into their spell and magnified it to the required amount. Powerful wands drew less energy from their users and so their masters could cast more spells without draining themselves, or even more powerful sorcery for the same cost.

Wandless magic then was hard because the small amount of energy that Wizards and Witches could usually emit was tiny compared to their overall strength, a mere fraction of a percent of their total ability and usually not nearly enough to power a spell wandlessly. The fact that Harry, at the age of fourteen with an immature magical core, could already produce even these smallest of spells, was an amazing feat.

So where had his power gone in the water? Water was an excellent magical conductor, it was easy to shape and magical energy flowed through it with barely any resistance, but at the same time it did not naturally draw power from people, else Wizards and Witches would never swim. There was no logic as to why simply being there would cause him to so rapidly loose his ability to even propel himself to the surface as he had tried to do with his last conscious thought.

It was a conundrum, and one that would not easily be solved as the young man ran his fingers absently through Fleur's hair.

-:-

Hermione was nervous, more nervous than she had been at the first task, more nervous than when she had gone to pick Harry up from his relatives, God that felt so long ago. She could remember how shy she and Harry had been around each other and how tentative their first kiss had been. But today she was positively terrified. Harry had seen her naked, he had seen her doing things that should, by rights, put this event to shame.

But tonight, she would be dancing with him, she would be in her beautiful dress that she and harry had picked out in that Hogsmeade trip, and he would be in those dashing dress robes. And they would dance. They would dance all night and everyone, the students, the teachers, and whoever was plotting against her man, would see them on that dance floor. They would see that she was his, irrevocably and undeniably. She would be the focus of attention tonight. She wasn't being arrogant in thinking that she was more important than Harry, not further from the truth could that be.

Rather she knew that a great many people wanted to be on Harry's arm. He was famous, a Champion, incredibly attractive, and filthy rich. She wasn't sure if Harry was quite aware of how much money he had but he always shied away from the topic. Quietly she had sent a letter to Gringotts late last month enquiring into Harry's estate so that she knew what she was getting into.

As a Goblin accepted bond mate to him she had been granted access to a summary of his accounts and had been blown away, apparently he came from old, old money, older even than the Malfoys, and Harry's ancestors had been avid investors, talented ones too. He would come into well over ten million pounds in inheritance, split across liquid finance and holdings as well as investments in both the Muggle and magical worlds, on his seventeenth birthday, and all the purebloods knew it.

That she would be on his arm, a first generation witch from a blue collar family, essentially consorting with what passed for wizarding nobility? She understood why Lily Potter had been such a strong woman now, you had to be to get through what she was about to be thrown into. That was another thing that had come out of the summary, a journal addressed to the future wife of Harry Potter, written by his mother.

Hermione hated keeping secrets from Harry but the journal was under the most incredible Fidelius charm she had encountered, instead of being linked to any one person, it was linked to the current holder of Harry's heart, the magic involved in such a charm was mind boggling the secret keeper wasn't even a person, it was Harry's magic. That on its own nearly made her faint with shock.

The journal itself wasn't anything special, just a leather bound book filled with notes and entries, as well as loose pages and documents attached to the journal with magical thread. What was the treasure were the words of wisdom passed down from Lily to her. It seemed that Lily Potter was an extremely perceptive, and that the Potter family had a bit of history marrying Muggleborns; because the entire journal seemed to be a Muggleborn's introduction to magical hierarchy and nobility.

Harry would, apparently, receive a similar journal on his sixteenth birthday from his father explaining things should he not be around to do it himself. The wealth of knowledge hidden in the pages of Lily Potter's journal was staggering, almost every page had been subjected to an expansion charm and reading the journal was a mind bogglingly huge task that Hermione had barely scratched the surface of. What she had ascertained was that Harry's mother was the strongest most passionate woman she had ever met, or even heard off. That she had stayed by James' side through a blood war discriminating on Muggleborns… that she had gone to social events with her husband to keep up appearances surrounded by pureblood elitists and death eaters in disguise… That she had been a Muggle primary school teacher despite her magical upbringing, married to the head of house Potter against the wishes and demands of the pureblood elite.

All of it was mind blowing. And Hermione hoped, no pleaded that she could live up to her future late mother in law's memory. It would be the greatest honour she could ask for. And that was why she was nervous. Tonight, in front of all of the pureblood parents who were coming to watch the ball and participate she would be on Harry's arm. At first she hadn't been too worried, what would they see, just a schoolyard romance right? They didn't have to know how serious they were, but Lily's journal had shattered that illusion. Purebloods heads of house and their wives often cast eligibility charms on young men at such functions; they were invisible, and totally undetectable. But they would confirm without a shadow of doubt that not only she had bound her heart and magic to Harry, but inadvertently Fleur had as well.

She shuddered to think what would happen if _that_ news got out. She desperately hoped Harry would understand Fleur's reticence. She hated to think what would happen if harry tried to break their friendship over this, it could be fatal to Fleur and Harry would never forgive himself after the fact. Fortunately Harry, much to Hermione's continued thanks, had a level head on his shoulders and was quite capable of understanding what had been going on, at least she hoped that was what would happen.

Besides that this was going to be Hermione's first social outing with Harry in the magical world, and she was determined to live up to the late Mrs Potter. She owed it not only to herself and to Harry's parents to be good to him, but to Harry as well. He had done so much for her, and she knew he would continue to do so for many years to come.

She just had to get through this accursed ball.

-:-

All too soon Harry was pulling on his elegant dress robes. They were well made and Harry was reminded strongly of the dinner suit hanging in his closet back home in Oxford. Fleur, he knew, had already left to meet her date in the entrance hall and Hermione wouldn't be far behind her as the Champion's quarters and Gryffindor tower were on the same floor.

He wasn't sure how Fleur had gotten ready before him; he just guessed that she had been preparing for the ball earlier in the day just as Hermione had. Eventually he deemed himself ready and flicked his wand as his hair, carelessly using a kinetic sorcel and a gel charm to push his hair where he wanted it for the evening. It had taken some practise but Fleur had shown both him and Hermione some fairly practical hairdressing charms that she learned from her mother and both Harry and Hermione were more than thankful in taming their respective hairdos. Hermione's was much easier to handle these days in its much straighter state. For her birthday Fleur had gotten her an enchanted hairbrush that maintained the long wavy hair that Hermione now sported, it was no longer bushy but rather had a thick wave that Harry never tired of running his fingers through. He was excited to see what she did with it tonight as he walked briskly down the stairs to the entrance hall several floors below.

-:-

The hall was packed and Harry craned his neck to see over the milling people, trying to spot his enchanting date, instead he spotted a date of no less enchant, but far more confusion. Fleur was standing next to a tall boy Harry had never remembered seeing before, and she didn't look happy. The idiot was standing next to her with a dumb, dazed look on his face that Fleur seemed to abhor, never mind seemed to, Harry knew she couldn't stand such behaviour.

Battling through the crowd he greeted her warmly with a kiss on each cheek, receiving two kisses of his own and flicking a questioning glance at tall dark and stupid. Fleur's hushed whisper made Harry's blood boil.  
>"Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea if my date was from Durmstrang, you know, to promote inter school integration."<p>

He really, really wanted to deck Albus right then, never mind the man was a hundred and fifty and a punch would probably finish him off. A soft growl under his breath made Fleur laugh musically  
>"Oh harry, it is not like I could have you, our beautiful brunette has claimed that honour has she not?"<br>Harry detected a strange note of jealousy in Fleur's voice but brushed it off as annoyance towards her date than anything else, and then he saw her.

Walking down the stair with all the grace of someone who walked in heels for a living Hermione descended towards the throng with the kind of elegance that Harry normally attributed to Fleur, her dress was a long flowing strapless green gown that Harry knew instinctively matched his eyes. Her hair was done up in an elegant French braid that draped across her left shoulder and down towards her chest but stopped just above her collar. He could barely look away from his eyes though, they had locked onto his seemingly through some kind of sixth sense the moment he had seen her and their gazes remained locked until she approached him and let him take her arm.  
>"You look magnificent Hermione."<p>

She smiled tenderly and then he knew that behind the light makeup and beautiful make over his Hermione was still there, nervous as ever.  
>"You look rather dashing yourself Harry, he scrubs up well doesn't he Fleur?"<br>Harry turned back to Fleur only to see a slightly hungry look in her eyes a moment before it was banished away  
>"You okay Fleur?"<p>

She smiled at him wanly  
>"Just fed up with sir drools-a-lot back here. May I have a few dances at some point Harry?<br>Nodding happily he said  
>"Of course, just so long as Hermione lets me go long enough to give them to you."<br>Fleur looked rather sternly at Hermione then  
>"You have to learn to share Hermione."<br>Much to Harry's amusement and consternation Hermione chocked a little at these words.  
>"It's okay love, she'll give me back after each dance I promise."<p>

-:-

Before the ball of course was dinner, and before that, the opening dance. The four champions and their dates opened the dance with aplomb, harry happy for the dance lessons he had begged out of the girls weeks ago and Fleur rather pissed with her partner who consistently slipped his hold. Fortunately the dance was short lived and the eight of them all walked to the head table to eat dinner.

The dinner was pleasant if a bit awkward with the unnamed Bulgarian (Fleur didn't bother to introduce him as he didn't seem conscious enough to hold conversation), drooling into his plate a little. Fleur confided to Harry mid-way through the meal that she had blasted him with a touch of her allure about an hour ago and he still hadn't gotten over it, disgusted she wrote him off for the evening.

The trio talked for quite a while but eventually gravitated to the dance floor where they switched several times and took breaks. Hermione even danced with Neville who has become something of an ally, if not a friend. Harry only lamented that Ron wasn't here to share the good mood with them and have some fun. The mood did not last however.

-:-

Harry had not noticed them, but he knew that a variety of pureblood families were here tonight, and Hermione had briefed him on the fact that they might discover their bond and the issues along with that. Harry had wondered briefly where she got the information but Hermione had reassured him with a brush of her magic that he would know in due time. Just as He and Hermione were finishing a waltz a couple of hours into the evening a loud cry rang out in indignant rage  
>"What is the meaning of this, a love bond, at their age? It is preposterous."<p>

All heads in the hall turned to them, Harry could see off to their left a balding man with spectacles pointing at them, rather rudely too, his wife appeared to be trying to get him to put his hand down and not make a scene. Unfortunately soon other pureblood families did the test themselves and soon the pair were in the middle of a ring of angry pureblood heads. Albus marched forwards into the throng and tried to break things up  
>"Now, now, is this really the time or place for this? Surely it can be handled later."<p>

The first man who spoke stepped towards the headmaster and said with a nasally voice that Harry found quite repulsive  
>"No <em>Dumbledore<em> you don't understand, this boy is clearly masking his own magical core with some trinket or other enchanted to do, just that! He's in direct breach of several laws of the ancient houses and as the head of the Parkinson family I am executing my right to bring him up about it."

Dumbledore seemed to sigh a little before replying  
>"He has a love bond, at the age of fourteen. That's nigh on impossible, no two people know each other well enough for that. Furthermore his trinket must be malfunctioning as it indicates a second unfulfilled bond, which is preposterous."<br>Harry's breath caught, a second bond? Unfulfilled? But who? Who did he know well enough for…? Oh no.

He felt Hermione tense next to him and his gaze snapped up and unerringly found Fleur on the edge of the dance floor looking terrified. They would sort that out later, but for now.  
>"Sir, Mr Parkinson was it? I assure you that I have indeed formed a love bond with Miss Hermione Granger, my date this evening, would an oath suffice for proof, or could you just take me at my word?"<p>

Harry nearly smirked at the collective cooing sounds that many of the girls in the room released at his words, it really was amusing how die hard romantic so many people were at the core of who they were; especially girls.  
>"I'll have that oath if you don't mind."<br>Harry huffed in exasperation before raising his wand and saying  
>"I, Harry James Potter, do swear that I have a bond of love, as seen by my magic, upon my magic and life, so mote it be!"<p>

A quick lumos confirmed his words and it set the balding man off a bit  
>"But you're what, no older than fourteen?"<br>"And roughly a half sir."  
>Huffing in annoyance the man retreated back, Harry's gambit had succeeded, but making the oath he had taken attention off the second bond mentioned, Harry might be confused about Fleur's intentions but she didn't deserve to be dragged through the mud about it. Nodding to Fleur and then to the door he took Hermione's hand and walked briskly out into the entrance hall and then to the grounds where fairy lights were illuminating the path.<p>

Hermione easily kept up with him and Fleur was close behind she caught up to him and opened her mouth to apologise but he gently but firmly said  
>"No, you're not apologizing, you had your reasons and I respect that, but we definitely need to talk about this." Looking around the grounds he shook his head, feeling uneasy<br>"I don't trust this place, anyone could be listening in, go to Hermione's room, disillusioned, tonight when she goes to bed. We'll talk then."

He turned back to Fleur who looked both teary and confused; feeling his heart go out to her he stepped forwards and wrapped her in a big hug  
>"I still love you okay? And no matter what you'll always be my friend, we can work through everything else, the three of us."<p>

-:-

Hermione was having mixed feelings, on the one hand she was so proud of Harry for keeping his head and treating Fleur with the respect and love she deserved. On the other hand she was worried that she might lose him tonight. It was irrational, they were bonded, irrevocably, and Harry wouldn't squander that for the world, she knew this. So why was her heart pounding with fear? She was currently walking back to her Gryffindor tower, a disillusioned Fleur beside her in an uneasy silence.

They clambered through the portrait hole and Hermione led them up the stairs to her dorm. Looking left and right she sighed as she realized that Lavender and Parvarti must still be at the ball. Moments later she had clambered onto her bed, gestured Fleur in and then shut the curtains, silencing them with a ward.  
>"You can drop the charm now Fleur."<p>

The part Veela shimmered into existence soundlessly before wrapping Hermione in a hug  
>"Are you half as scared as I am?"<br>The question from Fleur surprised Hermione, she had never thought that Fleur would be nervous or scared, she was Fleur Delacour for God's sake, she could have harry eating out of the palm of her hand if she wanted to. But then, that was the whole point wasn't it? Because of his love for her, Fleur was in real danger of never actually feeling true happiness and that must have scared the living daylights out of her.

Hermione couldn't help but feel that she would be much the same, as it was she was indeed scared.  
>"I am, but probably not as much as you."<br>The wry chuckle from her companion said it all but the soundless swing of the door behind her headboard opening cut conversation. Harry was there in more casual clothes and beckoned them in helping each into the slightly elevated doorway.

The other two congregated on his large bed and Hermione couldn't help but feel like a pre-teen student having a sleep over with the three of them there. Unabashedly she changed into some more comfortable clothes off to the side while Harry and Fleur broke the awkwardness with another warm hug, Fleur looked like she needed it.

When Hermione re-joined them Fleur looked askance at Hermione's wardrobe change and the younger witch simply shrugged, amused Hermione said  
>"He's seen me in less."<br>The three of them all chuckled well aware of what the two of them had gotten up to, Harry's voice broke Hermione from her thoughts  
>"Well then Fleur, I think it's only fair that you tell me about this."<p>

-:-

As it turned out it needed both Hermione and Fleur's knowledge to explain the concepts of the Veela bond in a way Harry could understand, he was a little baffled at first but when Hermione broke it down into more straightforward terms that didn't involve the inexplicability of how Fleur's magic chose him in particular it all fell into place.

Wearily he rubbed his forehead  
>"So, essentially what you're saying is that, for whatever reason, your magic decided that I was the most compatible life partner for you, like ever, and bonded you to me, without either of our consent. And now I'm the only person who can ever fulfil you again?" Fleur's small, sad nod spurred him forwards to asking his next question<br>"How long have you known? And how long have you known Hermione?"

That led to them talking about their discussion on the day he had nearly drowned and Harry felt more pieces fit into place until he heard Hermione mention the empathy spell.  
>"Please tell me you weren't silly enough…"<br>Hermione answered his question with a slightly awkward look  
>"We weren't thankfully, after talking it out we both agreed that it was a daft idea, not to mention it would be totally unfair on you."<p>

Harry raised an eyebrow at that  
>"How so?"<br>Hermione chuckled before saying  
>"Well I'm never going to be <em>in the mood<em> if I'm constantly miserable from receiving Fleur's feelings am I? It would make having a family or even a happy relationship kind of hard."  
>Well that was more straightforward than he gave the problem credit for, sighing he leaned back against his pillows and said calmly, his eyes lightly closed against the light<p>

"How can I help? What are the solutions, no matter how farfetched?"  
>Fleur's voice answered him<br>"There are several options, none of them very palatable for differing reasons, the most straight forward way would be for the three of us to have a permanent _ménage a trois_. As comfortable as I am with the idea, if only because it solves our issues, Hermione has indicated that she wouldn't be truly happy in such a relationship, and I think, neither would you or I in the long run."

Harry grunted in agreement, Hermione was enough of a handful without having to deal with Fleur as well. As enjoyable as the married life would have been he didn't think he could handle the drama.  
>"Next"<br>Fleur seemed to hesitate for a second before saying  
>"Another option, however unpalatable, would be to be with one of us and cast the empathy charm on the other. It would, hopefully, negate many of the negative effects of the bond by simply sharing the good ones from the other party. Although the one, left out in the cold so to speak, wouldn't ever be able to enjoy a relationship with someone else."<p>

Harry opened his eyes and looked sternly at Fleur  
>"You think I would consign either of you two to that fate? No, not happening."<br>Fleur hesitated again  
>"One of us could die."<br>Harry nearly choked as he rocked forward on the bed, eyes locked on hers  
>"Are you serious? No, not an option."<p>

Fleur nodded  
>"I expected nothing less, and now you understand my predicament, I cannot escape this torment."<br>Harry's heart broke as Fleur started to weep again, the conversation clearly too much for her, he reached out and she sank into his arms crying against this chest. While this wasn't how he had hoped his evening would go he was more than happy to hold Fleur and comfort her."

He locked eyes with Hermione and knew that the anguish he could see there was mirrored in his own gaze. He hated doing this to his friend, regardless of how their friendship had come about she was still one of the most important people in his life, so much was explained now, her pledge of fellowship at the choosing, her constant support and care regardless of the situation, her little looks of sadness, longing, or even jealousy. It all made sense. He was startled by Hermione's voice breaking through his thoughts  
>"Do you love her Harry? Are you attracted to her enough to want a relationship with Fleur?"<p>

Now that was a loaded question. He thought hard about it for a moment, why was he such good friends with Fleur? Why were they so close? Was it just because of this unfulfilled bond or was it because they legitimately were compatible with each other?

Well that was a moot point if ever he did hear one, it was because of the bond, but only because the bond was created because, apparently, he was the best possible match for Fleur, and presumably that went both ways. While that bothered him about his relationship with Hermione and whether it was only their experiences that had created their bond or whether they were truly a good match for one another he wasn't sure. He found himself becoming somewhat despondent, what would happen to his relationship with Hermione if he helped Fleur? Would they even still be together?

He almost shoved Fleur out of his arms, the feeling of revulsion that washed through him at that point was too strong for words. Quite firmly he spoke  
>"I love her yes, but not enough for a relationship, especially if that would put pressure on us."<br>He looked up and saw acceptance in Hermione's eyes, what that meant he wasn't sure but he didn't have time to reflect on that as she spoke again  
>"I expected that."<p>

Fleur's watery voice broke through,  
>"I'm so sorry you two, I didn't want this to be your burden to bear."<br>Harry's heart broke as Fleur began crying openly into his chest, clutching at his shirt and sobbing. He threw a helpless look at Hermione and she gave him a sympathetic smile before miming hugging. Getting the message Harry tugged Fleur up into a proper hug and held her close.

"Is there any way we can convert this bond? Make it one of friendship?"  
>His question was aimed at Fleur but it was Hermione who spoke.<br>"I don't know, Honestly it would be very complicated magic involved to try and force something like that, naturally I don't know if it could ever happen. I don't think we've said it yet but this is incredibly rare, maybe one in ten thousand Veela find their bond mate in life. Chances are it's even rarer that the bond is refused; maybe it is that we're in a unique situation. For the most part Veela bond with people who aren't bonded already and the Veela bond will create such feelings of love and endearment that they can't help but go to their new partner forsaking old fellowships."

She took a breath and harry saw that she was trying to contain her own tears at Fleur's predicament, he wanted to interject and ask where she got all this information but he knew she needed to talk right now to keep herself in one piece.  
>"I can't be certain but it seems that because you are bonded to me, and were so before Fleur's bond was initiated, the older bond is superseding the first and preventing feelings of true attraction to occur. It makes sense, a bond is in a way a sort of magical contract, and when you enter into a bond of love it cancels all other contracts that would prevent that bond from being successful: Marriage contracts, wedding vows etc. Because our bond is older it hold superiority and cancels the effects of Fleur's bond on you."<p>

Harry nodded, some might have been surprised but he was actually following this train of thought quite easily.  
>"And because there will be some kind of magical impulse that guides the way our bond negates the other contracts we might be able to devise a method of amplifying that energy to completely free Fleur from the effects."<p>

Harry grinned as Hermione beamed at him, pride evident on her face, she looked at the now curious Veela and worried her lip.  
>"I have no idea when we would be able to do this though Fleur, neither Harry or I are experienced enough to try messing with this sort of magic, it could be years until we're ready."<br>Fleur looked confused  
>"I must have only caught half of that conversation, are you nuts? You can't interfere with the magic of your bond, not for me, Non! I will not allow it. Bonds are sacred things, you can't just start messing with the way they work, I would rather suffer this curse than you potentially loose what you have."<p>

Harry's eyebrows shot up and he looked at Hermione, he knew full well what her views were on this, and he had his own that agreed with hers, at least most of the time, she knew he would do this without a second thought, it was who he was, but he wasn't alone in this, he wasn't just going to be risking his own happiness and life, he was risking Hermione's as well.

When Hermione held his gaze and gave him a firm nod he grinned  
>"We're doing this Fleur, we'll do this because you're our friend, our best friend, but more we'll do it because it's the right thing to do. We have the chance to help us here, it might take us a long time to manage it, but we will free you from this."<p>

Fleur opened her mouth to speak but saw the hard look in Harry's eyes, he wasn't backing down, she turned to Hermione, hoping perhaps to have an easier target for her worries, when she found none she gently disengaged herself from harry before wrapping Hermione in a hug instead.  
>"Thank you, both of you. I know this will be hard, maybe even impossible, and you're both taking a huge risk, but thank you. It means the world to me that you care about me enough to do this, to risk this perfect bond that you have for me."<p>

Harry grinned up at Hermione before saying  
>"Well it's like someone very close to me once said, when we have the ability to help somebody, the power to change their lives, we are obligated to do so, with that power comes the responsibility to use it in the best way you possibly can."<p>

Hermione chuckled before swatting his arm  
>"I'm not sure I like the name Harry Parker, you should go back to Potter."<br>Fleur looked up in confusion  
>"What are you talking about?"<br>"Oh don't worry; his mum is just rolling in her grave."

-:-

The train ride the next day was something of a sleepy environment for the girls, Harry decided to stay awake in case anyone stopped in and tried to make a scene, namely Draco and his thickhead friends. Much to Harry's annoyance Malfoy senior had once again pulled the strings of bureaucracy to have Draco released without trial. Apparently there was not enough 'conclusive evidence' to keep a pureblood scion behind bars.

Harry felt like spitting in disgust at that, pureblood scion indeed, the only thing pure about Draco was the fact that he was pure evil. The train jolted slightly and Hermione was jostled in his lap, looking down at her sleeping face he tenderly wiped a lock of hair from her forehead, she was so beautiful. To this day Harry was still trying to figure out what he had done in a previous, life to deserve such a wonderful, beautiful girlfriend. Future wife, the future mother of his children, his future everything.

And then there was Fleur, who was rapidly shaping up to be another close person in his life, probably for the rest of his life, he knew that even if this bond was broken between them they would probably still be like brother and sister with one another. He wouldn't have it any other way, she was rapidly becoming the second most important person in his life and he wasn't complaining, she was the best of friends.

He had to wonder if they were only friends because of this bond, would she have been as happy being around him and getting to know him if there was no impetus to do so? Would they have made such close ties without this annoying and hurtful piece of magic? If so, would he do things differently? Would he sacrifice his friendship with Fleur to give her the chance at a life without this bond hanging over her head? In one of his more selfish moments, Harry realized he didn't know the answer to that question.

The young man shook his head slightly and leaned back against the seat, shifting slightly to be more comfortable, there was so much to think about, so much to plan and do. He hoped he would have time just to be an ordinary teenager with his girlfriend. A wry grin formed on his lips, somehow he suspected Hermione wouldn't let him get away with _not_ being a normal teenager.

As the three sped towards King's Cross and their two week holiday Harry considered one vital thing, as long as Hermione was happy, and he was happy, and perhaps Fleur was happy too. Then everything was probably okay, and so far, they were all happier than he could remember them being for months. He cast his mind forward to what was waiting for him at the station, a real family, waiting for him, to take him home and ask him and Hermione about their term. Nodding to himself he thought that certainly he had never been happier.

-:-

Kings Cross was its usual grimy self, but when Harry and Hermione pushed through the barrier after seeing Fleur off they were immediately engulfed in hugs. Emma had embraced Harry tightly and Dan had wrapped Hermione up in his tall muscular frame. After a few seconds of greetings they switched and Harry had the unique experience of being hugged by Dan for the first time, it was a gruff manly affair, but filled with emotion beneath he surface that Harry basked in. This was family.

Dan fixed Harry with an appraising look and said the three words that Harry knew he would cherish for the rest of his life.  
>"Welcome home son."<p>

-:-

The drive back to Oxford was filled with warm conversation and laughter as the family caught up and chatted happily about their years so far. Harry and Hermione took great pleasure in describing all the training they were going through and Harry spent several minutes discussing the application of physics in sorcery with Emma who had taken the course at university alongside her dental focus.

For the two parents it was a little overwhelming at first, Hermione was often chatty when she came home for the holidays but having Harry there as well kept them both on their toes. Emma was the first one to pick up that something had changed, harry and Hermione would often alternate speaking without missing a beat, talking in turn with barely a glance at each other or any other kind of communication.

She figured something would happen to draw the two teens closer together but when Harry told her about the explosion in dragon arena Emma nearly fainted and Dan swerved the car accidentally as he shot a look back at his adopted son.  
>"That was omitted from your letters."<p>

Harry and Hermione both were very diligent with their correspondence home to their parents and Harry especially revelled in the chance to send regular letters not only to Dan and Emma but also to Sirius, wherever he was these days. But neither of them had sent anything home about the more traumatic events of the term, choosing instead to discuss those with their parents in person.

Recounting the tales of the more exciting parts of the year took most of the three hour drive back to Oxford and by the end of it everyone was nicely caught up. One thing though still bothered Emma.  
>"What's the deal with this friend of yours, Fleur? Was that her name? She's French right? She seems awfully close to Harry…"<p>

Harry winced as she let that statement hang in the air, this was going to be an awkward conversation.

-:-

Hermione couldn't help but be proud of how Harry was explaining the bond both she and Harry had, and the one he shared, even on an unfulfilled level, with Fleur. Dan and Emma both were initially quite shocked, then resigned, then rather proud with not only Harry but Hermione as well. There was a tense silence when he finished speaking. Emma was the first to recover and speak her mind  
>"I'm so proud of the both of you, I understand that this can't be hard on any of the three of you. I just want to know, if something does happen to the… bond, you share with each other. Not Harry and Fleur, you two, if you lose that, will you two split up? Or hate each other? How does that work?"<p>

Hermione watched Harry's reaction carefully, there was a tensing of his shoulders, a straitening of his back, his chin tucked slightly, those signs that he was supressing something, that he had something in his head that he was trying to get rid of. She reached over and gently rubbed his back, touching his mind briefly with her own to let him know that she was there, supporting him. Harry's voice when he finally spoke was firm and unyielding.  
>"Nothing could ever split us apart."<p>

Hermione watched as her mum gave Harry a happy smile and turned to the front again, evidently pleased with his answer and more than content to let the two teens in the back snuggle. Hermione did just that, wrapping Harry's arm around her shoulders and leaning against his chest in the back of the car while they sped towards their home. She hoped that Fleur and their family would want to visit at some point in the holidays, Harry might not be in love with Fleur but she was still their best friend outside of each other.

She and Harry had learned last night before Fleur left that her family was taking her contention in the tournament as an excuse to have a holiday in England and they had rented a flat for a few months while Fleur was here. She looked up at the underside of Harry's jaw, about the only thing she could see on this angle, and grinned up at him, she wouldn't trade him for anything, anyone or any sum of money. He was hers damnit and no French Veela bond was going to change that.

-:-

The Christmas Holiday moved far too fast for the liking of everyone involved, the Delacours wished they could spend more time together, Fleur wished she could spend more time with Harry and Hermione outside of a school environment, Dan and Emma wished they could have more time with their daughter and getting to know their new adopted son even better, Harry and Hermione of course would miss the house in Oxford and their parents. But leave they must and on the first of January they found themselves in a compartment with a sleeping Fleur.

The previous night they had finally gotten around to talking about the situation with their best friend and after much discussion and reassuring on the part of Hermione that they could do this without losing their bond Harry finally gave his full approval. Up until that point he had been extremely wary, despite his outward bravado, that he would lose Hermione. She had been touched when he had broken down the previous night and confessed that he was terrified that she would slip away from him, the Veela bond somehow breaking their own. It had been a long night of comforting for the two of them.

When Fleur awoke several hours later to Harry and Hermione resting comfortably against the back rest of the benches, she greeted them happily and the three of them shared quiet friendly conversation, they had a plan, sort of, between them. They were going to free her from this, not only because she was their friend, or even because this was the right thing to do, mostly it was because she was the closest thing they had to an older sister, she was family. That made this personal.  
>"We'll make this work, I promise."<p>

Another hug for Hermione who instead had words of wisdom for him  
>"And <em>we <em>will make us work, I promise you that my love."  
>Together the three of them headed towards the school where danger lurked around every corner, and the silver moon swam over the sky above the Quidditch pitch. That morning the sunrise was red.<p>

-:-

AN5: Well there's another one… lordy that took a long time to write. The holidays were purposely rushed, I didn't really have anything important to say about them and the chapter was long enough as it was. Just a note, this is still only a H/Hr story, the elements of fluff involving Fleur will be deliberately non smutty and few and far between, they aren't 'together' and are still just friends. That said I still have a surprise in store for them which will irrevocably solve the issue of Fleur's bond to Harry, though it shant arrive for several more chapters.

AN5: Review Responses:

Flounder En Flucter: I'm sorry to hear my writing style isn't palatable for you, chances are you aren't reading this, but if you are then I hope you understand that the heavy descriptive areas are few and far between.

Vegas Man: Heh, yes well, Draco's dad is much too arrogant for the such a young scion to scare him or his son away.

Anoutherboarduser: I hope you find this solution to the dilemma palatable

Colonel Killgore: Heh, If I was the sort of writer to do so yes that would have been the perfect situation for the beginnings of a Harem, or at least a triumvirate but this will be our solution.

Starfox: At the ranges where a handgun or even a 7.62 mm rifle would be efficient for Harry and Hermione + others to use them in a fight, spells and Sorcels are just as effective if not more so, they don't have to reload and that can maintain a sustained fire without noise or recoil. Magic has it's advantages.

As for the aspect of handgun executions, executing someone with a wand is a far more personal experience because you have to literally force your magic into the task (Remembering that sorcels are more efficient for such things), Thusly you are putting a part of yourself into each kill.

ShukoKage: Dawwww, thanks. Always gives me the buzzies to get a review like that.

JHarry: Do you have access to my archives? It's only that I know I wrote this chapter before your review came through that I wonder. So accurate, much wow

Darkheart: Don't worry, many lessons are coming up soon. And yeah, he does get away with a lot, helps to have a rich father who isn't worried about throwing money at a problem until it goes away.

Jslee: Dumbledore is still lurking, so many H/Hr stories are all about the bashing, which really annoys me, they should be about the H/Hr, nor dumbles or ron or whomever. But thanks for your other notes, and yes, the white once will be in a deal of pain soon.

Vukk: Just my shorthand way of saying that Malfoy would throw money at the problem till it disappears, who knows how many people he bribed

Beyondthesea: Just want to reassure you that while this toes close to the line it doesn't tip over, I'll make it more plain, Harry and Fleur aren't dating, there's just the potential for that later, but I can guarantee that it won't happen in this story, for reasons that will become apparent later.

Litfreak: Hope this fulfils your expectations!

HHrEdBella: Thanks!

Starboy: Thank you to you too

Dark0w1: Not too shabby an idea, you're another one who seems to be getting into my archives and stealing my ideas before I post them :P

Once again thanks for reading and other shenanigans. You're the air I breath these days guys and gals and your support drives this story forward. The next chapter will be named: Three curses; silver, red and green.

LGreymark


	14. Three Curses: Silver Red and Green

AN: Standard disclaimer as per usual

AN2: A dash of lemon in this chapter, you've been warned.

-:-

Chapter Thirteen: Three curses: Silver, red and green.

The first week back whipped by with disturbing speed, the only thing that really seemed to stick was the first DADA lesson of the term. When the class settled into their seats Moody once again gestured Harry to the front of the class. His usually grim features were set in an almost granite like expression however and Harry knew that the day's demonstration wasn't going to be 'fun'.

Moody's harsh growling voice filled the room  
>"Can anyone tell me what the unforgivable curses are?"<br>The class was dead silent, two hands were raised and Moody stared them down for a full minute before pointing at Hermione.

"The Unforgivable curses, so named because the unauthorized casting of any one of them will earn a life sentence in Azkaban, are the Cruciatus, the Imperious, and the Avada Kedavra." Harry noted that Hermione shuddered upon saying the last name and caught him with an apologetic look

Moody's harsh voice filled the room once more.  
>"Take five for Gryffindor Miss Granger. You're exactly right, these three curses;" He waved his wand and a blackboard materializes with the names on them, superseded by the word 'Unforgivables'<br>"These three curses are the pinnacle of the dark wizard's art. The first, is the torture curse, it causes unimaginable pain in the target, often described as being like a thousand white hot knifes constantly slicing and stabbing the flesh of the victim. It is not pleasant."

He flicked his wand and the board wrote a new word next to 'Cruciatus'; Torture  
>"The second curse, the Imperious curse, otherwise known as the Curse of Control or the Subjugation Curse allows the caster to gain complete control of their target. Instructing them to do anything they wish, it is insidious and nigh unstoppable. I don't think I need to explain the implications of having total control over someone's body. Note however that the control does not extend past the body; their mind and magic remain their own." He flicked his wand once more at the board and next to the Imperious, appears the word: Subjugation.<p>

He turns back to the room at large and speaks with his usual growl  
>"The last curse the Avada Kedavra, also known as the killing curse, is rather straight forward, and its purpose is in the name, it's a way of killing instantly and painlessly. Only one person has ever known to have survived it, and he's standing right next to me"<p>

Harry lost the train of thought as he heard those words, was that how his parents died too, a simple painless death? He wasn't going to pretend that wasn't comforting, for years he had wondered if they had been tortured before they were killed, or if they had died in pain. This at least was a hope that they had known no agony.

When next he looked up Moody had already placed the word 'Killing' next to the words 'Avada Kedavra', he glanced up to see Hermione looking at him with a concerned expression, to reassure her he shot her his lopsided grin before focussing back on Moody, promising her silently with a brush of his thoughts to explain more later.

"We will be spending some time in the next few weeks learning how to identify and protect against these curses. The ministry has given Dumbledore full licence to authorize these curses for teaching purposes. Please note that only the Imperious will be offered for resistance practice and only voluntarily, we won't force any of you to take part."

Turning back towards Harry he continued  
>"But before we get into identification and characteristics we've got something to talk about beforehand, how many of you watched Potter's duel against Miss Delacour a month ago?" To Harry's amusement everyone raised their hand enthusiastically<p>

"Right then, can anyone tell me a characteristic of their duel that so far has been absent of our practices: Something that would make duelling both easier and harder?"  
>When no one raised their hand for a while Moody raised his eyebrow and said calmly<br>"How about the fact that Mr Potter's and Miss Delacour's sorcels were creating trails of flame as they passed through the air? Did I not say that as a rule sorcels were invisible some months ago?"

The class all nodded their heads at this, finally on point with what Moody wanted to bring their attention to.  
>"Can anyone tell me why their sorcery was creating such an effect? Miss Granger?"<br>Hermione, predictably had gotten her hand up first  
>"Sir, the amount of power Harry and Fleur were putting into their sorcels to increase their effectiveness and speed was somewhat overcharged, this meant that excess magical energy leaked from the sorcels mid-flight and because of the speed the sorcels were moving caused friction in the air which created enough heat for brief ignition."<p>

Moody nodded, his crooked smile firmly hitched in place  
>"Very good Miss Granger, take five points, and the follow up assumption that can be made from this?"<br>To Harry's very great surprise Hermione lowered her hand looking disheartened, he hadn't talked to her about this but he was well aware of the secondary point to be made.  
>"Sir, if I may?"<p>

Moody looked at him shrewdly and nodded  
>"Go ahead Potter"<br>"Sir, the secondary assumption that can be made is that because the spells were able to interact using the laws of natural physics with the air around them, that is friction, then Magic, or more specifically, magical energy, must be natural in nature, and not supernatural as is often assumed."

Moody nodded once,  
>"A little more detail Potter?"<br>"Sir, the inference being that magical energy is simply another derivation of mass, that being the idea that all mass is simply energy in a solid form. Burn a piece of wood, mass, and you are converting that mass into light and heat energy. Magic is simply an extension of this, another form of energy if you will."

Looking like Christmas had come early Moody nodded again  
>"A bit further Potter you're almost there"<br>Harry had to think hard for a few seconds but eventually it came to him  
>"When we cast sorcels with enough speed sir, they catch aflame, this indicates that they are causing friction in the air as previously stated, friction comes from mass. Thus we are converting our magical energy into mass when we cast, this proves the theory that Magic is simply a different state of matter."<p>

Moody clapped his gnarled hands together in appreciation for a few seconds, Hermione joined in but the Purebloods and Half Bloods in the room looked stumped.  
>"Take forty points to Gryffindor, what Potter has just discussed is the underlying principle of sorcery, the idea being that our magic is simply an extension of everything that you see around you, it is based in Muggle science and only those of you taking Arithmancy will cover the topic in greater depth later, most likely in your newt class. For the moment all we need to take away from it is this:"<p>

He waved his wand clearing the blackboard and waving his wand as he writes, etching words into the surface:  
>"Goret's three laws of sorcery:<br>1: All sorcery is magical energy made manifest  
>2: No sorcery can become more than the sum of its parts, that being that only the energy put into a sorcery can fuel the sorcery.<br>3: All matter, be it solid liquid or gas, is sorcery by another name. And can be manipulated using the principles and tenets of sorcery."

After stopping and turning to look at the class he growls out a single question  
>"What then, is the implication for sorcerers if all matter is magical energy by another name?"<br>Tentatively harry watched Neville raising his hand into the air  
>"Longbottom?"<br>"Sir, all matter can be converted to magical energy"  
>"Exactly right Longbottom, five more points. This is the last and most powerful, application of hexwork, the concept of drawing the very matter of an object, and converting it into magical energy to fuel your sorcery, spellcasting, even your own body if you're competent enough to reconstitute that energy into food or drink that you can then sustain yourself with."<p>

This thought sent harry reeling, the idea that, using hexwork, he could absorb the very fabric of the world around him to fuel his body was mind boggling. He nearly didn't hear Seamus's question  
>"What would happen if you absorbed another being sir? Like a rabbit?"<br>Moody swung around to look at the teen and fixed him with a harsh gaze  
>"Or a person do you mean Mr Finnegan? You will never, ever, attempt to absorb the energy of a human being, or any other creature. The process is extremely dangerous, not to mention illegal worldwide. To dissuade you further, consider this; the penalty for casting one of the unforgivable curses is life in Azkaban. The penalty for absorbing the energy from a living being without consent is death by shroud."<p>

Seamus' face lost all of its colour and he hastily dropped his hand, looking abashed. Moody stared around the room  
>"It is for that very reason that we will not be covering the process of how to do such a thing in this year group. Chances are you'll not even see the theory again until sixth year when you begin practising vanishing charms. Class dismissed."<p>

Harry shared a look with Hermione as they walked out of the classroom, a phrase came to mind that Ron often had used; "Brilliant, but scary."

-:-

The rest of the week was mostly a blur, the new trio stayed close, Harry and Hermione keeping up their usual relationship and loving every minute of it, sharing a bed nightly and frequently exploring each other's bodies at night under the warm blankets. But Harry and Fleur were sharing affections as well, ones that were having unforeseen consequences.

It wasn't anything overt, nothing even beyond platonic. Although only just barely. Harry was aware of how much it helped Fleur so he would often exchange hugs with her, or kisses on the cheek, small touches or even snuggling in front of the fire at night before bed. It came to a head that Wednesday when Harry was saying a brief goodbye to Hermione who was returning to the Gryffindor dorm to help her dorm mates with their potions assignments before the two soul mates met up in bed together.

Hermione gave him a passionate kiss and as usual Harry's knees nearly buckled at the force of emotion behind it as their tongues battled for dominance, hands roving over each other and their bodies pressed flush against the other. Eventually they broke apart, panting hard and staring into each other's eyes. Harry had his witch cradled in his arms and She was leaning back into them comfortably with her own arms around his neck.

All of a sudden though, and much to Harry's horror, Hermione burst into tears and clutched at his chest, crying into his robes.  
>"I'm sorry Harry! I know it'll hurt her but you have to stop!"<br>Harry smoothed back her hair, somewhat bemused and gently asked her  
>"Stop what love?"<p>

She looked up at him then, tears streaming from her eyes and a mournful look piercing his soul  
>"With Fleur, the affection you two have been sharing, I know it's horrid but you have to stop."<br>Harry was taken aback a little but swept over her mind with his own, melding their personalities so that he could get an idea of her pain. Understanding hit him like the proverbial bludger and he realized his mistake.

"You're in pain? How?"  
>Hermione's lips didn't even open as she replied to him, Harry simply, knew, what she was trying to tell him, that it was their bond, the same thing that was happening to Fleur, was happening to Hermione. She thought that she could handle it, that being with him would neuter the effects, but it had only gotten worse. Harry cried out in shock as he realized he'd been causing her pain and they sank against the wall of the corridor to the cold floor, Hermione wrapped up in his arms and with her face buried into his neck.<p>

When their personalities were merged to this degree they barely needed to talk, and when they did it was rarely with any sense of individuality, it was not 'her' or 'him' it was 'they', 'we', 'us'. So it was in that cold gloomy corridor on the seventh floor of the castle that something extremely rare happened; Harry Potter wept. Hermione was, much to her eternal annoyance, an extremely emotional woman, and the last months had been exceedingly taxing on her. She was strong, yes, but the sheer emotional torture that she had been put through, sympathy for Harry's past, Ron's death, terror at Harry's near death, Ginny's betrayal, Harry's involvement in the tournament, the dragon, the guilt over Fleur's accidental bonding to Harry, all of t was too much at some point or other and she had been crying much more than usual.

Harry however, while not so much made of sterner stuff, was somewhat less of a 'crying person' rather he would get angry, he would hit something or head into the forbidden forest for an hour and throw over charged sorcels around. He was an active emotional and the concept of him crying was so rare as to be almost non-existent.

So it was then that as they wept together, as one being, in that corridor that harry felt every smidgen of pain that Hermione had gone through over the last few days and his heart broke over and over again at the pain _he_ had caused her, him who had promised never to do so. Eventually they split into distinct individuals again and they simply held each other, taking comfort in each other's presence.

Harry was, frankly, scared. He had done more in the last three days to cause harm to Hermione than he had anyone else in his life. His heart leapt with renewed hope however that she would not hate him as her lips pressed against his again, softly, begging comfort and release into each other's hearts. He kissed her back warmly and slowly, their lips brushing against each other for mere moments before they split apart to look in each other's puffy eyes, before moving together for another heartfelt kiss.

"Never again my love. I'll fix this."  
>"Thank you Harry. My man, my wizard, I love you."<br>"I love you too Hermione, my lady, my witch, see you soon?"  
>"Later, I still have this accursed essay to help the girls with."<br>"Later then, I'll be waiting."

-:-

The door shut behind Harry with a snap and he turned to see Fleur's shining eyes looking at him from across the room, her lustrous hair splayed out across the couch cushions and a warm woollen blanket tucked around her waist against the cold, even with the fire the room was still bitterly cold in the dead of winter. Harry's heart tore a little as he saw the eager, almost pained look on her face, he knew what Hermione meant, when she quietly told him that she hated what she was asking him to do. This was going to suck.

Carefully he picked his way across the dimly lit room and with a brave expression sat down next to Fleur. Harry opened his mouth to speak, looking into the slightly roaring fire but no sound came out. Fleur's hand brushed against his arm and he shivered at the contact. Opening his mouth once more he tried again.  
>"Fleur… Hermione… Our bond… She's been in pain lately."<p>

Fleur was silent, clearly confused and expecting Harry to go on, he winced, they knew each other so well.  
>"When she sees us, cuddling, exchanging hugs, whatever, the bond between us, it spikes against her, causing her pain. Much like yours does with you when Hermione and I are close… just… more."<br>"Oh Mon Dieu"

Harry relaxed his neck muscles and let his head fall forwards, his knees were slightly spread and he had his forearms braced against his knees.  
>"I'm so sorry Fleur; I know how much this hurts you, I… I can't imagine how much you have to go through on a daily basis despite what you've told me… But I can't keep doing this if it's going to hurt her. She is <em>everything<em> to me Fleur."

He felt her handgrip his and he turned his head to look at her, it was strange, with the way he was talking you would think they had been doing much more than just being close, but he guessed that with more powerful love came more powerful heartbreak.  
>"I can't keep hurting her Flower."<p>

Finally she spoke  
>"I… did not know that this could happen, I thought it would have had to have been at least kissing, snogging, yes? But… I had no idea."<br>Harry nodded grimly but before he could speak she continued.  
>"I would never dream of hurting her intentionally Harry, I can bear this burden, it is likely that she is feeling more acute pain because your bond is stronger, older, I cannot keep hurting her, just as you cannot, she is my friend too."<p>

Harry let his head droop again, she was being so understanding, so helpful, but he caught the tone of pain in her voice. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, his best friend, his lover, his soul mate, was in pain, and yet to ease her pain was to cause pain in the woman who might as well have been the closest platonic friend he could have. The decision was not a complicated one for Harry, he knew what he had to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but that did not make it any easier.  
>"I'm so sorry Fleur, but, I can't keep returning this affection, hugs, maybe, the odd kiss on the cheek? Probably pushing it, but we can't keep up the little touches, the snuggling in front of the fire at night, it has to stop."<p>

He felt her entire body begin to shudder with tears and he swept her up into a hug, knowing instinctively that comforting her would not set off the pain Hermione was feeling. Now that he was aware of it he could almost feel it, like a taut cord between them that, when pulled one way or the other, wrenched on the heart of the receiving end.

For the second time in as many minutes harry held a weeping girl in his arms for a long time, letting her get the emotions out of her system. He couldn't claim totally dry eyes himself, he knew what he was condemning her too. It didn't sound like much on the surface, but he was well aware that the affection they had been exchanging was taking a _very, very_ sharp edge off of Fleur's pain and this would bring it back tenfold.

"I'm so sorry Fleur."

-:- Lemon below -:-

That night as Harry and Hermione held each other close under the covers of the large comfortable bed in his Champion's quarters Harry felt absolutely rotten. The look of dejection and pain on Fleur's face as she had closed the door to her room has broken his heart. He had no idea that heartache had such a real life equivalent till now but the pain that he had caused both young women was forefront in his mind. Fleur, thankfully, had told him in no uncertain terms that this wouldn't affect their friendships. She still held both younger teens in high regard and was counting on them to one day find a cure for the bond, or at least a way to free her from it.

Harry was wrenched from his thoughts as Hermione's soft lips pressed above his collar bone, her arms were curled up between them and his own arm was draped around her shoulders, the other behind his head as he lay on his back with her cuddled up to him. Harry's breath hitched as her lips started traveling to his throat and all thoughts of Fleur fled from his mind. Instinctively he reached out to Hermione's mind with his own and with a loving embrace meshed their personalities together, not enough to lose their identities in each other, but enough to share thoughts and feelings through the bond.

He groaned involuntarily as her lips suckled on his neck, leaving a small mark, it seemed an age ago when they had held each other that morning before the funeral and Hermione had first shown him pleasure. Since then she had gently tutored him, explaining some of the concepts of making love, giving him a personalized version of 'The talk' which was much more comfortable between the two of them. They could share everything with each other.

Hermione for her part had done her best to build a framework of equality between them, no 'roles' as such in the bedroom beyond their sexes. They both gave each other pleasure unrestrainedly and Harry was marked as hers just as often as she was marked as his. She smiled sinfully into his neck as she snaked her tongue out to lap at his slightly sweaty skin, the salty taste was delicious and she eagerly laved licks and kisses down his throat and to his chest.

She wasn't shy about kissing his chest, sucking on his tiny masculine nipples and admiring his wiry chest and abdomen. The build up to winter had added a bit of weight to his middle and she ran her hands down his stomach, revelling in the feel of his taut fluttering abs beneath the thin layer of winter fat. Hermione loved this, the relaxed intimacy, the utter trust and surrender he gave her. Never was Harry Potter more vulnerable than when he gave himself over totally to her without even a second thought.

She felt honoured every time they were intimate, it was breath-taking how beautiful he was in the soft candlelight of the dimly lit room, his strong arms and chest, his thick thighs and powerful, but gentle hands that so tenderly stroked her hair and upper arms, respectfully staying away from her chest for the time being. It was sweet to her, how even now Harry needed to ask permission, even silently, to touch her intimately. She felt utterly safe with him, and the fact that never once did he shy away from her, or make her feel unwanted, gave her a self-confidence she never thought she could possess.

They had learned together, haltingly sometimes as one made a mistake or the other faltered in their confidence; exploring each other's bodies just as she was doing now. She had lost count of the number of times they had surrendered to each other, her wrapped in his arms as he drove her over the edge of orgasm again and again until she could do little but mewl in pleasure against his throat, or when he had gripped the headboard behind him in an obvious show of trust as she took his gorgeous length deep into her mouth.

And yet despite all their explorations, all of the teasing and the orgasms, all of the intimacy, never once had he pushed her, never once had he tried to take the final step. She had been scared the first time she had assumed he was going to and had shied away. But when he simply was confused and held her close desperately trying to understand what was wrong she had cried in his arms, thanking him and kissing him, overwhelmed by the respect he gave her every time they made love. They were both still virgins in the strictest sense, but despite that they still considered their activities making love, what else could be as emotionally charged and intimate? Tonight was different through, Hermione could feel it, harry was guilty over what had happened and she knew he needed to release some of his stress. She could do that for him.

She moved lower, spreading his legs gently with her hands on his thighs. Nestling in between them she stroked his bare cock in the candlelight, admiring the way the flickering shadows highlighted different planes of his masculine length. Tenderly she took him in her hand and locked their eyes together. Her heart melted at the tender expression of love and devotion on Harry's face as he pointedly meshed his fingers together, arms looped through the slats in the headboard. He trusted her tonight, letting her do what she wanted without urging her at all.

Firmly she began pumping his iron hard length in her hand, she only used one for now, knowing how Harry loved to watch her little hands pumping on his cock one at a time, it was one of the few ego boosts he let himself have and she was more than happy to give it to him. She set into an easy rhythm, her hand gliding down with a sharp down-stroke before tightening slightly on the upstroke, milking his thick cock with her hand. She loved doing this, watching the muscles in his abdomen flutter as he fought to stay in control and not buck into her hand.

The understanding being that if his hips bucked then he would be controlling, at least even slightly, the pace of their lovemaking; that wasn't what tonight was about, and they both knew it. Hermione kept eye contact with him, her lips opening slightly as she let herself pant over her exertions, knowing it would increase his arousal. Indeed she felt his length twitch in her hand rhythmically as she fractionally increased the speed of her own rhythm in his cock.

She kept that eye contact as she lowered her head so that her lips were aligned with the head of his penis and she lightly blew across him, grinning as his eyes started to roll back in his head before they snapped back to hers. Slowly, and taking care not to rush, she extended her tongue and began lovingly caressing his velvety skin and flesh with long luxurious licks. Careful not to touch him with her teeth she slowly took his head into her mouth and suckled briefly, tonging his slit with a loving caress before wrapping her lips around his length from the side and stoking up and down his shaft, her hand caressing his head tenderly.

Her other hand moved down between his thighs and cupped his balls lightly, rolling them between her fingers as she hummed pleasurably into his cock. Slowly she moved back to the top of his length, sucking and licking as she went before taking his cock deep into her mouth. She slowly engulfed his entire length. It had taken her a few months to figure out how to do this but if she slowly took him deeper bit by bit she could supress her gag reflex without having to stop. Soon her nose was nestled in Harry's thatch of silky pubic hair, her eyes still locked on his and his cock lodged deep in her throat. She had a little game where she would try and stay there as long as possible so as to prolong his pleasure as she swallowed rhythmically around his velvety length.

After a few moments where she tried to supress the need to breathe in, she eventually, and still slowly, pulled back from his length. The actual sensation of having his penis that deep in her throat was, while nice, nothing compared to the feelings of arousal and pleasure washing across to her from Harry's side of their emotional link. That alone was worth the slight cough she involuntarily gave as she breathed in for the first time in nearly a minute. Something that she loved intensely was the moans Harry gave her. The whole time she had been down on him he had been softly groaning and telling her he loved her with a tender reverence in his voice that made her heart swell with happiness and pride.

She loved that she could make him this happy, could give him this pleasure, it made her feel powerful and sexy to elicit such sounds from him, to have such unwavering trust and respect from the love of her life. Still harry had not moved his hands from their linked position, she moved one hand over his stomach as she caught her breath, his abs were still fluttering as he continued to fight for control to thrust into the hand she had returned to his length to keep stroking him.

She wanted to try something tonight, but she was nervous, Harry was rarely rough with her, really only when she asked him to be. But she wanted that tonight, she wanted him to work off some stress. Carefully she stroked him and moved back up his body to nestle back into the crook of his neck. Whispering against his skin she said  
>"Give me your hands Harry. I want you to work off some of that guilt."<p>

Dutifully Harry's hands came around from the headboard and, releasing his length completely for the first time in several minutes she took them and moved back down his body, tugging him with her. Harry got the message and shuffled backwards against the headboard so that he was still reclining but was now sitting up. Taking a deep breath she once again sank down onto his cock and put his hands on her head and wrapped her own around his waist. The bond was helpful in times like this as she sent him a mental image of what she wanted.

Tentatively at first Harry held her head in place, throat relaxed and with her lips around his head, and began thrusting his hips up into her, driving his cock deep into her throat. The feeling was delicious, so often Harry would give himself over to her, trusting her completely with his safety, she understood now why, it was intoxicating to know that he held her safety literally in his hands now as he began to become more confident, building up a rhythm and thrusting into her mouth.

She felt her throat being stretched by his cock with each thrust and she moaned happily around him, her eyes still locked on his as she breathed through her nose when she could. True to form he continued to whisper and murmur words of devotion and love, actually taking the time to say them out loud when it would have been so much easier for him to just grunt and moan whilst sharing his feelings over the bond. She loved it, every second of it as he somewhat roughly fucked her throat, his words of endearment making her heart swell in happiness and the feelings of utter pleasure washing across the bond reinforced her feelings of happiness and love.

Harry still didn't have the best stamina in the world and it was amazing he had lasted this long but it wasn't much longer after he truly set into his rhythm that he was announcing the approach of his release. Not that he really needed to, she was familiar with the pulsing his velvety length made as he approached orgasm. With one last feral cry, eyes still locked to hers, he thrust hard into her throat and spilled himself deep into her belly, groaning her name over and over again as his cum filled her tummy with a familiar warmth that she loved. Even as his length pulsed in her throat she felt the pleasure of his release gill her up and her own body reacted gently shuddering and she mewled around his cock as her pussy gushed over her thighs and down the sheets.

As was almost ritual between them Harry waited till she was clear of his penis before tugging her close for a heartfelt tender kiss. He had never been bothered by the taste of his sperm on her tongue, as even now some of it had still spilled into her mouth as she retreated from him. Privately Hermione thought that he found it arousing to taste him on her and have even more evidence of what she had done for him. They stayed like that for several minutes as Harry held her close, cradling her in his arms.

-:- End of Lemon -:-

It was tender, and sweet, they didn't speak, just kissed each other and clung to one another as if their worlds depended on it. Not long into the embrace Hermione reached out and threaded their minds together, obliterating any differences between them until they were simply _one_. Sometime into the night they began to talk, sometimes with Harry's mouth, sometimes with Hermione's, but it was them talking, not him, or her, them.

Nothing important was said for a long time, they simply thanked each other, for their love, devotion, respect. They spoke about their days, drawing on memories from both sides of their existence. All too soon though they had to draw apart, they still could not hold the sensation for greatly extended periods of time before their reflected emotions began to overwhelm them. When Hermione's eyes fluttered and she let go of the _presence_ that was her soul mate she looked into his eyes and saw the deepest happiness she could ever comprehend reflected back at her, this was them, their life, and despite all the troubles around them they would hold it together.

They held each other long into the night, caressing each other and lightly kissing, talking in hushed voices as the endless, smokeless candles never burned down. Sometime in the night Harry reached between them to pleasure her in return but she gently held him still  
>"No love tonight is to remind you that I'm still yours, that nothing will ever change that. I wanted to remind you that no matter what, no matter what we go through, I will always want to be yours. I wanted to relieve your stress, to let you release some of that pent up frustration and guilt, you know I found my release in the depths of yours."<p>

Her eyes remained on his and she saw the confusion there, the need to pleasure her, grinning she pushed her memories of the event across their bond and felt his acceptance and love wash back. It was so easy to love him, so easy to get lost in his devotion to her, so easy to let herself go and simply _be_ with him. The two drifted to sleep buried in each other's happiness and love, armoured now, against the coming trials.

No matter what, they would endure.

-:-

The next week however, brought something of a shock for Harry and Hermione. A stern looking horned owl swooped down on the Gryffindor table Monday morning at breakfast with a letter clutched in its beak. Harry relieved the bird of its letter and waited patiently for it to fly off before slitting open the envelope and unfolding it. Written on the inside of the parchment and folded was a letter of summons to the hearing of Ginevra Molly Weasley to be held on the twelfth of January, barely three days away, at 10Am. Glancing sideways at Hermione he saw her eyes turn flinty as she read the missive.

"Bury her Harry. I want her in prison for the rest of her natural life for what she did, and what she nearly did."  
>Grinning despite himself he slid an arm around her waist<br>"Surely mental hospital would be better love? She needs help."  
>Harry was mildly startled as he felt Hermione's gaze lock on his and the distress in her eyes was obvious. Her voice wavered slightly but remained strong<br>"She. Nearly. Killed. You." Each word was punctuated by a tap of her nail against the Gryffindor table  
>"I don't want her to ever have the chance to hurt you, or anyone else, again. She can rot in Azkaban for all I care, she's earned that right."<p>

Harry was, slightly, taken aback, gently he brushed her hair away from her eyes where it had fallen forwards and said quietly  
>"You know what those… things, will do to her. Does she really deserve that?"<br>Hermione seemed to collect herself and after a moment spoke with the same hard tone  
>"When I saw you there, completely limp and choking on your own spit with nothing I could do my heart broke in two Harry Potter. If Fred and George hadn't heard me screaming bloody murder you would have <em>died<em>. We would not be here to have this discussion, she would have been executed dementors be damned, and our bond…"

She broke off eyes threatening tears  
>"Our bond would have been broken and I would have lived the rest of my life pining for you. Do you understand how… <em>Close<em> I came to completely losing you that day?"  
>Harry pulled her close and hugged her, finally understanding; this wasn't just about Harry, this was about her as well. Ginny had not only nearly killed him but nearly condemned Hermione to a life of misery, heartache and pain, that alone was enough to make him want to throw the red head in jail.<p>

A thought struck him then which, despite the timing, he felt like he needed to voice  
>"Love… what about that magic you were talking about, that contract our bond essentially is that stops me from dying? I don't remember exactly what you said but shouldn't that have kept me alive? Is that perhaps why I'm still here?"<br>He felt her head shake against his chest  
>"No, no you don't understand, our bond wasn't even complete back then, don't you remember? It was just at the stage where things were starting to solidify, where we had some of what we could become but not all, it wasn't until that first night we touched each other's minds, nearly three weeks later, that it was finalized, and that contract we talked about was formed. You were still very vulnerable."<p>

Little did they know Fleur had sat down opposite them and was listening into the conversation, her look of curiosity soon morphed into distaste and then outright horror as she understood the full implications of what Hermione was saying.  
>"He… nearly… Mon Dieu!"<p>

Harry turned around sharply at the sound of her voice and his eyes softened in sadness, she flicked him an equally unhappy gaze before turning to Hermione  
>"So Harry is… immortal?"<br>Hermione, much to Harry's amusement, huffed grumpily  
>"No he isn't immortal, one day, some many, many years from now, he and I will die a natural death together, but anything can happen between then and now, he could be crippled or driven mad. He isn't immortal, and he isn't invincible, he still, has, to, be, careful!"<p>

Her last words were spoken very pointedly in his direction  
>"But he will not, cannot, die from violent causes, it's… I don't even understand the mechanics behind the magic here, maybe in a century I might begin to understand it, but I don't have the information I need."<p>

Fleur nodded her magnificent head and dug into her breakfast, dropping the conversation, there was nothing more to be said. Meanwhile Harry was penning a quick rsvp to inform the DMLE that he would be attending the hearing. Sliding it across to Hermione he said offhandedly  
>"How's that do you reckon love?"<p>

"Well apart from the fact that you're writing this on used parchment it looks formal enough, do you want me to get Hedwig to send it for you later?"  
>Harry shook his head, taking the letter back he said with a smile<br>"That's okay love, I can handle it, I know we've got that Arithmancy test coming up that you want to study for."

Hermione, much to Harry's amusement, chuckled wryly  
>"That test is over a month away Harry."<br>He sent her a sly grin before saying  
>"We're a month late for study then don't you think?"<br>"Oh you!"

-:-

The three days passed quickly but, as usual, the strongest highlight was DADA, Astronomy and potions were simply, there, these days, Arithmancy and Runes were coming along nicely, but Harry barely had to try in Arithmancy at the moment and in Runes they were covering extended rune clusters which was simply tedious. Care of magical creatures, while interesting, was a class Harry was rapidly coming disenfranchised with, he loved Hagrid, he really did, but he rather thought the half giant was beginning to lose his marbles. In charms and transfiguration they were covering household objects to animals and advanced levitation respectively. But DADA always provided something engaging for Harry to wrap his brain around, especially with Alastor Moody teaching the class.

-:-

"Today, we will be resisting the Imperious curse!"  
>Those words snapped all six of the students to attention; they had been waiting for this day all last week<br>"We have to start with this one, while the Cruciatus is usually seen as the 'first' unforgiveable. The imperious is, for obvious reasons the only one we can study safely, today, I'll be putting each of you under the curse so that you can examine its effects and learn to identify when it has been cast on you. I hope that some of you" here he looks pointedly at Harry and Hermione,  
>"will be able to throw this curse off entirely or have a natural immunity to it."<p>

Harry watches with rapt attention as Moody moves around the room, his other leg clunking heavily on its step.  
>"Before we begin I want to delve a little into the reasons why, while we cannot block this curse, it can be resisted or thrown off entirely. Finnegan!"<br>Seamus, who a few months ago would have to snap to attention and concentrate harder, was now already there and ready to answer the question  
>"Yes sir?"<br>"Recite to me the reasons why both the 'Protego' shield spell and the sorcery duellists' shield function as they do."

Seamus seemed to collect himself for a second before speaking  
>"Sir, the Protego charm is a barrier made of magical energy forced into the shape of solid invisible particles that, with enough energy, can stop most any curse or physical object."<br>"And the duellists' shield?"  
>"Sir, the duellists' shield, and all variations on the theme, use a controlled cloud of free magic to nullify any magic that enters its purview, the stronger the shield the stronger the curse it can block."<br>Moody nodded once, pleased, before answering another question  
>"Longbottom, why do both the Protego shield spell and the Duellists' shield block spells?"<p>

Harry was somewhat proud of Neville, after the first task he had tentatively asked Harry for help with his sorcery so that he could have a bit more confidence in himself, Harry had agreed and for the next month or so tutored Neville to really improve his sorcery. Now he was a powerful fighter, although not a hugely imaginative one. What it had done was turn the somewhat timid boy into a confident young man.  
>"Sir, the Protego charm and the Duellists' shield both block spells because they are made of magical energy that has a contrary purpose to whatever spell is cast at them, thus reflecting and absorbing spells respectively."<p>

Moody nodded once before turning to Harry  
>"Good! Potter, with those definitions in mind why then is the Imperious curse able to pas straight through both the Duellists' shield and the Protego charm?"<br>Harry thought for a moment before answering  
>"If both the charm and the sorcel reflect or absorb spells because of the differing nature of the energy, then initially we can rule out the idea that somehow the Imperious curse 'changes' to pass through, as it would remove its core purpose and simply feed energy into the shield it struck. We can also rule out the idea of some kind of magical sheath around the spell that allows it to pass through as there is no simple 'hole' made in that situation, the magical energy sort of flows around itself and the spells mesh together before coming distinct again."<p>

He took a short breath, gathering himself for the second half of his answer  
>"That being said the major thing we know about the Imperious curse is it's deceptively high energy requirements, and the fact that it is shaped something like a lance or a spear, very thin, very 'sharp'. I can only hypothesise that the spell has so much force behind it that it simply overwhelms any shield put in its way or flows around the Protego charm unhindered. It's spear like shape allowing more of its considerable power to be focused on a small point causing breaches in poorly cast shields."<p>

Moody growled in appreciation, the class had heard the noise before it was somewhere between a chuckle and an approving snort just… add more 'Moody'.  
>"Well done Potter, you've just dissected a conundrum it took the Ministry eight years to figure out in the war, what does this mean in practical terms though? For the case of the Protego shield it's fairly straight forward, the curse never actually touches the shield, just flows around it, Mr Potter talked about how the curse was shaped, which as you know is difficult to determine as the curse is invisible, the long thin nature of it allows it to quickly shape it's way around the shield and the 'Charmer's seam' in the defence.<p>

For the duellists shield of course what we witness is an overwhelming magical force slamming into a shield that can only produce a certain amount of energy every moment to defend with, it's why duellists shields break, they cannot keep up with the power requirements. This is why, conventionally, it is accepted that the Imperious curse, the Cruciatus curse, and the Avada Kedavra, are unblockable. They are curses which means they draw all of the energy they need from the caster and the surrounding environment and are s singular force, whereas to block them you would need to be able to force more energy into your duellists' shield than the curse can draw from its surroundings. Theoretically speaking if someone had enough raw power they could easily block the curses much in the same way that any one of you can block a stunner. It's all a matter of power."

With those final words Moody stepped back somewhat and called up to them.  
>"Anyone who wants to experience the curse and try to resist it form a line in front of me."<br>Harry looked sideways at Hermione and meshed their minds together for a moment, trading ideas. Eventually Harry raised his hand  
>"Sir? Are we going to have multiple attempts to throw the curse off?"<br>Moody raised an eyebrow at him and said  
>"If you show any promise at all, then yes."<p>

Nodding to himself Harry got up and headed down to where Seamus and Neville were standing, Hermione close on his heels. Apparently Parvarti and lavender didn't want the experience. Neville much to Harry's amusement, seemed to be performing well, moody cast the curse at him several times, each time Neville would spend greater and greater amounts of time standing there twitching before finally moving off and doing some silly activity. Eventually Moody moved him on saying that he didn't quite have the ability, but he could resist.

Seamus was even more amusing, as for whatever reason, he showed absolutely no aptitude for resisting the curse and spent a hilarious minute trying frantically to stand on his head. Harry was next, he stepped forward and Moody flicked his wand, growling the incantation. All of a sudden Harry felt his hand moving up against his will, it was nothing more than a twitch but as soon as he was aware of it, he shut it down completely. Again, he felt a leg attempt to move but with nary a thought, reigned himself in. He understood now why Neville had remained in place twitching.

Harry realised that this was only resisting the curse, if he wanted to throw it off he was going to have to figure out how they were linked. Reaching out with his magic he probed the area around him until he felt, rather than saw, a thin tenuous connection between himself and the professor. With a heavy motion of his mind he bore down on it, forcing his magic around the connection, before snapping it.

He was fully cognizant of his surroundings whilst this was happening and watched Moody's face change from concentration, to annoyance, then appreciation, then pride. Finally the professor staggered back a bit, as if the connection between them had been a physical entity and he was leaning back into it before it snapped.  
>"You see that? He beat it, now Potter tell us what you felt."<br>Harry explained how at first he had only felt the ghost like movements of his body as it did things he didn't tell it to, before realising that he needed to go deeper to find the connection. He explained how he had pushed out with his magic and found the connection before breaking it. Moody gave him an appreciative smile that seemed to butcher his face even more.

"Well done Mr Potter, 5 points to Gryffindor" He turned to the room at large and raised his voice  
>"What Mr Potter just described was one of two ways to break this curse from within yourself, it is the simplest, but not everyone can achieve it. Firstly you need to be able to have the mental strength to shut down whatever movements the caster of the curse tries to instruct you to perform. I think all of you will agree with me that Mr Potter has that in spades. Mr Longbottom would you describe your ability to resist the curse in a similar fashion?"<p>

Neville spoke with a touch of wonder in his voice  
>"Similar sir, but not on the same level, I had to struggle to shut down each attempt, the way Harry was talking about it makes it sound like as soon as he was aware of them, the attempts simply, ceased."<br>Harry nodded at Neville and then turned back to Moody with a slight blush as the professor kept explaining  
>"Exactly Mr Longbottom, incredible mental discipline, and then Mr Potter did something that I don't think most of you even know you can do, he shaped his magic into a probe and explored the ether around him for other magic, which he then bore down on and broke by forcing it to bend around his power until it could do so no longer, and then it snapped. A show of hands please, aside from Mr Potter how many of you have manipulated your magic in such a way.<p>

Predictably Hermione raised her hand and so did, much to Harry's interest, Parvarti. At Harry's interested look she explained in a rush  
>"My family practises meditation and I've done so for the last eight years. Understanding your magic is just one aspect of that."<br>Moody seemed to take the information in stride and turned instead to Hermione and Harry  
>"What about you two? How did you learn the skill?"<br>Hermione ducked her head and Harry squeezed her shoulder supportively, the information was going to get out eventually  
>"We've been mixing our magic together for a few months now sir, the process involved us at the beginning reaching out blindly into the darkness, we became aware of our magic then."<p>

Moody shot them a strange look as the girls in the class crooned in happiness and the boys looked on in surprise. Moody looked Harry dead in the eye and growled out  
>"Congratulations you two, now tell me, can you do that at will?"<br>Harry nodded sharply  
>"Yes sir"<br>Moody raised an eyebrow  
>"Would you like the chance to try resisting the curse as a merged pair? I don't feel that I would have any more success against Miss Granger on her own, but experiencing the curse together might give you some interesting insights."<p>

Harry glanced at Hermione to see her firm gaze meet his, a thread of unspoken understanding passed between them and he nodded  
>"Yes sir we would like the chance."<br>Moody had them stand side by side  
>"Merge together, when you're ready just wave a hand"<p>

-:-

Hermione felt Harry's magic wash over hers and then mesh comfortingly, with practised ease they obliterated the boundaries between their two minds and revelled in the feelings of being one. They flicked their hand at the professor and suddenly they felt a force attach itself to them. They saw the professor's wand move after the fact and then an even more powerful tendril snapped forwards, latching itself to their combined being. Almost contemptuously they snapped it before it had truly taken hold, a mere flex of their magic decimating the curse's connection.

Moody staggered back as usual and they turned one of their heads around slightly to watch their classmates while they kept the other head locked on Moody as he began speaking.  
>"You see that? The moment I cast the spell they see it, identify it, and destroy it. The power of their minds together is stronger, much, much stronger than any one person could achieve. Miss Patil, have you merged your magic with your twin at any time?"<p>

Parvarti nodded looking taken aback, Moody paid her no mind  
>"The Weasley twins were much the same as these two were, well aware of each other they merged their minds to play a prank on me by obliterating my attack much in the same way as these two just did. The bond between twins, and soul mates, is nigh untouchable by the power of the imperious curse. That's all for today, class dismissed."<p>

-:-

As they were leaving the class Harry turned to Hermione, their minds unlinked now, and said quietly  
>"Thank you"<br>Harry's words startled her a bit and she asked  
>"Why exactly?"<br>She watched his tender smile spread on his face and she couldn't help going up on tip toes to kiss him gently, she watched him smile even wider as she went back down on the flats of her feet.  
>"For giving me the amazing gift of your love, every day we discover something new that this bond does for us, it changes the way we act and even interact with magic. And it's all possible because of you sweetheart. I love you."<p>

Hermione's heart melted and she stepped forwards into his arms, her won looping around his neck to kiss him softly before snuggling into his chest and enjoying the feel of his arms fitting snugly around her back, his soft words brought a silly grin to her face and she couldn't help but reply  
>"I love you too sweetheart. Now…"<p>

Hermione was interrupted as a harsh sneering voice filtered through the halls  
>"Oh stuff it you two, we don't need to hear that drivel from a filthy mudblood and a blood traitor son of a mudblood."<p>

Hermione closed her eyes desperately trying to hold herself in check from obliterating the boy with her wand. Draco fucking Malfoy couldn't give them a moment of happiness could he? Harry's voice came from above her with his strong masculine tones  
>"Hermione look, this isn't something you get to see every day; it's the rare albino ferret, almost extinct because of their extreme stupidity."<p>

She couldn't help but giggle into his chest as Harry effortlessly shrugged off the blond ponce's insults and made her feel better, she looked up into his eyes with a hint of mischief, they were thinking the same thing and he nodded subtly. She raised her voice  
>"I've heard they're extremely filthy and incestuous, often mating with their mothers because they're so incapable of attracting a female of the species due to their ugly features."<p>

She grinned up at Harry as she heard Malfoy splutter from the side, they were both enjoying taunting the bastard who had nearly raped Fleur, they couldn't do much more to him right now, but they both knew that the next time something happened, Lucius Malfoy be damned, Harry would use his fame to get the arrogant pureblood locked up. Harry responded to her with a taunt towards the ferret of his own, cutting off Draco as he tried to say something  
>"You see the two he's flanked by? They're chosen for their extreme stupidity so as to be unable to disagree with their nearly as stupid master. Apparently these ones are actually smarter than this particular albino ferret because the ferret's father couldn't find anyone more idiotic than his own son."<p>

They walked past Draco and the goons laughing together completely ignoring them as the ponce opened and closed his mouth in a rough approximation of a goldfish, what was funnier though was Crabbe and Goyle who didn't know whether to be insulted that they were called stupid or complimented that they were called smarter than Draco, the looks of oafish confusion on their faces were priceless.

-:-

The dawning of the day of the trial was a nervous one for Harry, he and Hermione would be travelling to the Ministry of Magic with an Auror for the trial, up until the morning they got the summons neither of them were even aware that there was even going to be a trial. He just thought that Dumbledore had quashed the charges and forced an expulsion.

Neville had been the one to inform them that his Gran had actually petitioned the Wizengamot for a full trial against her for her actions against one of the scions of one of the richer wizarding families, the sheer wealth that the Potters possessed granted them a nobility that reached well before the Norman invasion of Britain right back to the time of Arthur, the tail of inheritance stopped there but only because that was where the records began, there was no telling how old the Potter line was. This had led to a long discussion where Hermione had admitted that she had known of Harry's wealth but was aware that he didn't care about it and hadn't brought it up, fully intending to do so over the summer where they could get everything in line.

Harry had been a little shocked to hear that he would be Lord Potter upon his seventeenth birthday and had questioned Neville about the apparent Ten Million Pounds that he had stashed away in his vaults somewhere. At this point Neville had laughed uproariously, explaining how that was the stipend that the scions of the more ancient houses were given and had access to until their seventeenth birthdays at which point, by law, they took over the reins of the household regardless of their father's age or status.

Apparently Harry's true wealth would be closer to the region of a hundred million or even several hundred million pounds; he had promptly fainted at this and had woken a few minutes later to Hermione's concerned but amused smile. The long and short of it being that Harry was one of the wealthiest land owners in Britain, or would be upon attaining his majority, and apparently drugging him with Gabbling's Draught was a near capital offense that carried the penalty of time in Azkaban at a minimum of fifteen years, Ginny would have been in Azkaban longer than Sirius Black had been, all because of her overblown sense of entitlement.

And that was the minimum, there was every chance that she would be in Azkaban for the rest of her life, or executed by shroud. To say the least Harry was a little nervous about the proceedings and what would happen. As it turned out he had little to worry about.

-:-

"All rise for the court! The trial of Ginevra Molly Weasley versus the court on the twelfth of January nineteen ninety five beginning at ten o'clock in the morning. Let it be known that the wards on the chamber compel truthful speech and falsehood cannot be propagated in these rooms. Bring in the defendant."

The crowd rose to their feet whilst the man in bronze coloured robes recited the information of the trial and Ginny's crimes as she was brought in, the list was longer than Harry had anticipated including; attempted murder of a scion of an ancient and noble house, attempted interference with the line of succession in an ancient and noble house, illicit possession of a restricted substance, intent to harm, intent to rape… the list went on.

Harry felt sick as Ginny entered, not because of what was about to happen but because the moment she saw him her mouth dropped open in a slight pant and then stretched wider as she yelled  
>"Harry! Sweetheart thank goodness you're here baby! Get me out of these chains would you love?"<br>Hermione put a comforting hand on his back as he turned away from her and abruptly Ginny's mood turned sour  
>"OH! So you turn to the mudblood whore instead! I'm…"<br>What Ginny was, would never be known as a silencing charm from the auror who was bringing her in became fed up with her screeching.

The trial proceeded much as anyone could have expected, Harry and Hermione gave their testimony, Ginny gave hers, a pair of Mind Healers from St Mungo's hospital for magical maladies gave their professional opinion of her mental health and without any further ado Ginny Weasley was sentenced to sixty five years in Azkaban.

When the sentence was doled out Harry felt his heart turn cold at the concept of spending sixty five years in the presence of the dementors, beside him he felt Hermione stiffen with the same feelings of horror. The worst thing was that if she survived the experience when she was released she would be sent immediately to the long term ward of St Mungo's mental corrections facility for the remainder of her natural life. Not something to look forward to and the sobbing of Molly Weasley over the crowd was drowned out by Ginny's screams of outrage.

-:-

As he and Hermione we leaving the courtroom Mr and Mrs Weasley caught them up and Harry surprised himself as he pulled Mrs Weasley into a hug  
>"I'm so sorry Mrs Weasley, I never meant for this to happen to her."<br>She sobbed for a few seconds before saying  
>"It was that… damn… diary, she was such a sweet girl before h…hic….he ruined her."<br>Harry felt terrible for Molly, she had to see her daughter, broken beyond her control, brining shame to herself, her family, and to Molly and Arthur directly, who had raised her.

He and Hermione did their best to comfort the Weasley's before they were taken back to school for afternoon classes and lunch. When they arrived they were greeted by a somewhat teary Fred and George who for the first time in memory hugged Harry before disappearing into the school to do whatever it was the twins did in their free time. Feeling utterly drained Harry and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table for lunch where they were comforted by a mournful Fleur after they described their morning.

Hermione was privately thankful that Ginny was finally out of their lives and where she belonged, but at what cost to those around her? She was once again thankful for Harry, he was hurting inside, she could see that, at what he had needed to do in the last weeks, Fleur, Ginny, both of them had their lives changed forever this week, but he was staying strong, mostly for her. And Hermione couldn't help but fall in love with him just a little more every day.

The horizon however, was not so bright.

-:-

AN3: There we have it folks chapter 13

AN4: Review Responses

Shukokage: I try, I try, that was the single largest piece of writing I ever just sat down and… typed. Glad to know it was well received.

ArtanisRose: Thanks, nice to know people agree with me, and yeah… Dumbledore to me is somewhat of an enigma, he wants to help Harry, but at the same time he sees certain things that just HAVE to happen because it's the only way forward, he has hard decisions to make, and sometimes he makes the wrong ones, does that mean he deserves bashing? Absolutely not.

RoninKeshin: Thanks, here's another

Independent angel of hearts: Well… I eliminated that concern, so hopefully you can continue to enjoy.

JHarry: No? Ah well I'll have to see if I have a leak somewhere, the Draco issue is one that I'm having trouble dealing with, to be frank I need him at the school, he's an excellent readymade rival for Harry especially later on, but at the same time he's an arsehole, he does what he wants and gets away with it because his dady has the entire upper stories of the ministry in his pocket, Part of me wants to throw him in jail, part of me wants him to just… persist, annoyingly, and part of me wants Harry to kill him at some point. Idk, it's an ongoing debate in my mind. As for the money, I know I screwed up and have fixed it here.

Darkow1: Your review gave me some ideas of how I can finally resolve the ongoing issues that I have with Draco's character, and hopefully I can finally put that to rest, thanks, you've broken some of my issues there.

Starboy: Well thanks!

Vukk: Shhhhhhhhh no one's supposed to know about that yet *shifty eyes* and yeah, money debate solved

Plotbunny: Fixed for your amusement, also Hermione does have flaws here, Idk if you've been paying attention but she has shown jealousy, possessiveness etc. She can be arrogant and overconfident as well.

Lightskiller: Welll….. darker moments will come about, sooner rather than later too. Although I'm glad you're enjoying things.

Anotherboarduser: Oh…. This is awkward, at the end of the day I felt that I had gone too far over the edge of what I found comfortable and other reviews helped me to that point, this is, at the crux of things a tragedy, and the idea of everyone getting their happy ever after isn't something I want to espouse.

Killamuff: Thanks!

Frustr8atedwriter: Fixed for your amusement.

Vegasman: The second task will certainly be an eye opener, not nearly as much as the third however… that is going to turn a lot of people from the story I feel, mostly because of some of the darker aspects, but I hope everyone stays with.

Annabel: Fixed for your amusement

Jamnaz79: RIP the ginger indeed, glad you're liking it

Rikodunaruto: I'll say this once, I'll say it a hundred times, don't post sodding spam in the reviews.

Casualreader: Yeah yeah I get it, I screwed up, fixed for your amusement

Beyondthesea: Being not sure how to feel is the ultimate goal of any tragedy writer, forcing the reader to choose between characters and take sides is nothing more than the best result I could have asked for. Fleur's eventual resolution is planned btw. Just wait and see.

Darkheart: Now there's an interesting thought, what would happen if Draco attacked one of the more popular pureblood scions? Interesting thought and something to take in mind, thanks. Also nothing in the lake specifically that did that to Harry, consider that it might have been the lake itself.

Tersios: Thanks!

Right, thanks everyone for reading and other shenanigans. As a side note as I'm writing this the story ticked over 80K views, which to me is a fabulous milestone and I can't help but be thankful to all of you who've stuck with me thus far, ROLL ON 10K!

Expect the next chapter: Cold Wet and Worried, to come soon.

LGreymark


	15. Cold, Wet and Worried

AN: Usual disclaimer applies JKR owns, I enjoy, just like the rest of you, let's get on with it.

AN2: Be warned, there's a bit of gruesome happenings in this chapter.

-:-

Chapter Fourteen: Cold Wet and Worried

Dawn was something Harry had enjoyed seeing these last few weeks. The months were passing into spring and the dawn was being pushed further and further back in the day and was now sitting comfortably around the time of Harry and Hermione's morning run around the lake. Even now, several months on, they were still keeping up their fitness, and if anything, it was getting better by the day.

They had a system. Each morning they would run around the lake; they had two stones, one close to the gardens, that was their start point, the other was moved around the lake. Their run would take them from their first starting stone, to the ending stone, and each day they would move the end stone about twenty meters farther around the lake so that they would run farther each day.

They had started with exactly one lap of the lake; they were now doing a bit over two laps and counting. They had actually stepped up their routine somewhat, and had started adding a time requirement. It was different for each of them and, as nice as it would have been, they rarely kept pace on their runs, and Harry's longer stride often had him shooting out ahead of Hermione who, even now, was still working to build up the stamina that Harry had enjoyed for much of his life.

Harry's time limit was the dawn; no matter when he woke up he had to beat the dawn from rising, and if he didn't beat the dawn he had to do another lap. It was a ruthless pace as he always woke up to go down with Hermione who often managed to coerce him to stay in bed just that little bit longer. Hermione's time limit was a bit more regimented; she simply had to run each hundred meter section in forty seconds or less, each hundred meter section she didn't achieve she had to run another hundred meters. It was a good system for both of them and some mornings had seen them nearly collapsing back at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

The upshot of all of this was that the pair were now extremely fit. They could count on themselves to be able to keep up their physical exertions for much longer than anyone else in a duel, such as dodging, diving out of the way of things, and so forth. It all took energy. An added benefit was that with the increase in physical stamina their magic was gradually growing in strength too. They had found out early on in their runs that Harry was, physically speaking, much fitter and more powerful than Hermione.

This had been confusing to them as, while Harry had done a lot of running as a young teen, he hadn't been looked after well earlier in life and untill recently his muscles were underdeveloped. Hermione stumbled on the idea that Harry's more highly charged magical core was able to give him a little bit of an edge in any kind of physical endeavour over her, just by nature of his magic being able to sustain his muscles, stamina and strength, for longer periods of time.

So when they started pushing themselves physically on their runs they felt their magic begin to kick in to help them. Over time they could push themselves harder and longer, stopping shy of any kind of actual magical exhaustion. Not only were they building the fitness of their bodies, but their magic as well. They had tested themselves several times over the months; Hermione had devised a harmless way of quantifying their magical strength. The test was simple; the person being tested would use the levitation charm to lift a one kilogram ball of iron. Every minute the block was held aloft was worth one point, they continued lifting it until they couldn't anymore. The Sunday after the trial with Ginny saw Harry and Hermione out on the grounds performing the tests again, three months since the first time.

-:-

Hermione was straining against the levitation charm. She was just ticking over two hours and she'd never even gotten close to this before. Sweat was pouring down her brow and the iron ball was shaking violently in mid-air. She felt her magic pouring through the wand held in her slim hand and the tip was faintly glowing from long use. Her legs were shuddering, her hand was shaking slightly and beads of sweat were running down her brow. She felt Harry's presence at her side but she didn't dare look for fear of breaking the charm.

Inevitably her arm dropped as the iron ball fell to the turf, she felt Harry's arms slip around her as she fell back into them, utterly exhausted. Another strange event was the way their body's physical strength seemed to feed their magic as it waned, a two way street that neither of them had expected, but perhaps should have in hindsight considering what happened to those magically exhausted.

Hermione's eyes drooped slightly as she felt herself being lowered to the ground gently and propped up against their favourite tree. Dimly she was aware of Harry nudging a potion bottle between her lips and she dutifully swallowed the foul liquid that rushed across her tongue. Harry's warm, slightly rough, fingers massaged her throat helping her swallow and soon after she felt life surge back into her limbs as the pepper up potions did its work.

A touch more alive she smiled up at Harry and caress his cheek with her hand. "Thank you sweetheart." She smiled at the tender look of concern on his face.

Harry responded, "Are you okay love? You look deathly."

Hermione nodded, he hand still cupping his cheek. "I'm fine Harry, how did I do?"

-:-

Harry grinned internally whilst keeping a concerned look on his face. Hermione never changed; near total exhaustion and still she wanted to know her test results.

"One hundred and forty nine minutes, an impressive achievement love, nearly a hundred minutes better than your first test."

Harry scooped her into his arms holding her gently against his chest, happiness welling up in both of them, Hermione at the result, Harry in happy pride at her achievement. He was startled slightly by her chuckle.

"Only thirty minutes better than your first achievement though, we had better wait until tomorrow before we test you, it could take most of the day."

Grinning slightly Harry lifted her out of her sitting position and manoeuvred her around so that she was cradled in his arms. She was a slim little thing now, barely any extra weight on her, and he could easily lift her up in his arms. She sighed happily against his chest, legs draping over his left forearm and arms looped casually around his neck. Her soft words made him smile.

"Take me to bed love; I need to sleep for a bit."

He was only too happy to oblige, she looked like she could sleep for a year and he had a couple of bits and pieces he could occupy himself with while she slept. They made their way up to the castle, a notice-me-not charm on them to halt any questions about Hermione's exhaustion. She meandered her way up the steps to her dorm once in Gryffindor tower and Harry made a beeline for the champions' quarters. Soon they were both in bed with Hermione snuggled up to him after a contented sigh.

He felt a touch guilty, Fleur hadn't spoken to them at all in the last two days, stating that she wanted to get her head around what was going on, and then focus on the solution to the egg clue, i.e. how they were going to stay underwater for an hour. He couldn't blame her either; the first task was barely a month away now and both of them were still struggling with finding a way to achieve their goal.

The problem was that they both seemed to have a trouble with water, Fleur from her Veela heritage and inexplicably Harry as well. For some reason they both felt their magic drain whilst underwater; curiously Harry didn't experience the same phenomenon in the bath, only whilst in the lake. Fleur was similar, her magic was dampened in the bath, but not drained (apparently anyway; Harry wouldn't know personally).

The upshot of this was that neither of them could count on being able to maintain any kind of sustained spell over the entire hour, which removed both the bubblehead charm and the concept of converting the water to air with hexwork. So, much to Harry's chagrin, they had begun looking into potions that could help them. Or at least they had before Fleur had started giving them the cold shoulder.

He ran his mind over the potions they had discarded already as worthless; the list was surprisingly long. While many potions were able to change their physiology to be able to survive in a liquid environment, all of them drew on the drinker's power to maintain the transformation, usually with an antidote to counter it before the drinker's power was completely drained. Annoyingly, this usually harmless trait of those potions made them totally useless, if not outright dangerous, for this task.

Using hexwork or traditional transfiguration to modify their own bodies had similar issues. Hexwork was irreversible; if they changed their heads to some kind of fish so that they could breathe, their brains would go with it dooming them to life as a fish with human legs and body. Transfiguration had the same inherent problems as the potions they had tried. Harry had to admit that things looked bleak; they didn't have many options left to them and those that remained were difficult at the best of times to deal with.

As Harry sat with his back against the headboard of 'their' bed with Hermione snuggled up in his embrace he rifled through his mind for any solution to the ongoing problem.

-:-

Winter slowly passed into spring, the snows melted, the castle began to warm, and the students began to get excited about the second task. Gryffindors rallied once again behind Harry, giving him supportive cheers in the hallways, the Hufflepuffs got behind Cedric, and the Durmstrang students roved in packs yelling chants in support of Krum. Fleur was alone, she had no one to support her aside from Harry and Hermione, and even then she had found herself trying to stay away from them, punishing herself for causing problems in their relationship.

She knew it was her fault that Hermione had been in so much pain at the start of the term, no one but himself could blame that on Harry. And seeing him so devoted to Hermione only made it worse for her when she realized how close she had been to having that same relationship with him. She wondered, daily almost, why her magic had done this to her, why it would lock her into a bond she couldn't escape from, and couldn't fulfil.

There were no answers to that particular question. Much like there were no answers to the continuing issues related to the tournament. Before she had sequestered herself it seemed that she and Harry had gone over every solution to the coming task; charms, transfiguration, potions, sorcery, nothing had reached success, and she was beginning to give up hope. Forfeiting the task seemed like it would be her only option and it was not one that she considered lightly.

Leaning back against her headboard in her room in the champions' quarters she let herself give into the roiling emotions that existed in a constant state of flux beneath the calm façade of her demeanour. The pain of the bond, the misery at the near-broken friendship that she wanted so desperately to repair, but could not bring herself to do. The loneliness of being alone without her friends and family, even the constant ache of loss from her missed chance with Harry, and her bitterness at her own magic's refusal to aid her in not only the task, but also in matters of the heart.

What should have been a blessing had become her greatest curse; her magic had become her enemy.

-:-

The grass was cool and soft under Hermione's feet. She was relaxing near the lake with Harry laying on the grass between her legs with his head resting against her stomach, her hands playing absently with his hair as the handsome boy slept. Her mind raced as always, sparking ideas being filed away for later identification and examination, but it was muted whilst Harry slept. She had noticed the strange phenomenon a couple of weeks ago when they had tested his magic and he had slept off the strain.

While Harry's mind was asleep it was like a part of her slept with him, even when she wasn't consciously melding their minds together like they did so often. Quietly she wondered whether it was the next phase of their bond, a sort of permanent link that they didn't need to focus on to maintain. Hermione couldn't deny that the idea brought her a great deal of both happiness and peace. The idea of a part of them being fully joined on a permanent level was something that made her heart soar and flutter with excitement.

This bond had been nothing but wondrous to them, sharing sensations, memories, emotions, even thoughts and ideas. It had brought them together more surely than any decades-long mundane relationship could have. She had shared memories from his youth, times of darkness and pain. That had been a hard experience, for both of them, but sharing the memories had taken a weight off Harry's shoulders, and had given Hermione a deeper insight into his mind and thoughts, something she craved.

At the core of her being, Hermione desired knowledge; she wanted to learn and to grow on a constant, never ending basis. If there was information to collect she wanted to collect it, if there was a concept to understand she wanted to be the one to come to terms with it. She wanted to understand the core fabric of what drove people and to an even greater extent, magic.

Knowing Harry's entire person intimately was simply an extension of this. Hermione wanted to know it all; his moods, his thoughts, ideas on life, his preferences, his fears and doubts, all of it. Admittedly, being friends with him for several years had given her a great deal of insight; she was well aware of a great many things about Harry even before they gained the bond that had threaded them together so neatly. But the bond made it so much easier.

She could, with nary a flick of her consciousness, reach out and utterly obliterate every boundary between them, immerse herself in _him_, understand everything there was to know about the wizard named Harry Potter. Even with such amazing unfettered access it would take years. Many people had differing opinions about Harry, that he was arrogant, or conceited, or foolish. Rash and hot headed, unintelligent and dependent on her for her brain.

But she knew better; whereas Hermione was the analytical side of their relationship, the logical half, Harry was the impulse, the drive, the heart. When they had first threaded themselves together she had been swept away in him, his passion, and his drive, the overwhelming need to protect and to be the most powerful person around. It wasn't even conscious; Hermione wasn't even sure if her man realized it but he had the drive of an elite athlete, constantly striving to be better than everyone in his field.

It certainly explained a few things, and not all of them obvious. The first and most apparent aspect of his life this affected was his talent in DADA and Arithmancy, even magic in general. Harry had huge amounts of raw power and potential, and he used it unceasingly to become the best he could possibly be at everything he threw himself into, his natural talent for sorcery had become a near obsession in the back of his mind. Hermione knew full well that Harry subconsciously used sorcery for everyday things, lifting objects to his hands, opening and closing doors, even while cleaning he would manoeuvre whatever brush or sponge he was using with sorcery. She had walked in on him in the shower over the Christmas break, quite intentionally, to see him washing his hair with magic, each individual hair standing on end being saturated with water and shampoo.

Watching him work was fascinating; he carried his wand everywhere in a holster she had got him that attached to his wrist. She knew that he rarely even needed to draw it anymore for mundane sorcery; he could just wave the arm it was attached to and that would be enough. Conventional spellcasting still required him to draw it however, as did advanced sorcery or any other fine work. She didn't know how long that would hold him back however.

It gave her an incredible sense of pride to watch him grow and attain more and more proficiency with his magic, his academics, his control over their bond. She loved the feeling of his mind caressing hers, gently reassuring her with a cocktail of thoughts and emotions aimed to comfort and encourage, and the lovemaking… It was all truly amazing and she couldn't be happier than moments like this with them so close and intimate.

But things weren't always so easy. Fleur had pulled back from them both; Hermione knew that Harry blamed that on himself more than anything and despite her trying to convince him otherwise he was obstinate on the issue.

The second task was a concern too, but not from the perspective that Harry was worried about most of the time; she was sure he would find a way to overcome the strange issues he was having with water. No, that wasn't her concern. Hermione was outright terrified of whatever new attempt would be made on his life. All year he had been in and out of danger; the Dursleys, the World Cup, multiple times at school, the first task, the tournament itself and all the problems that brought along with it, Ginny _sodding_ Weasley. The list went on; the point being that someone, probably that Valmortis character, had it in for Harry and Hermione was getting worried that the attempts on his life were hitting closer and closer to home.

The second task, with the champions down in the depths of the lake for an hour, would be the perfect time for someone to go after him, and Hermione wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it or be there for him if something went wrong, or perhaps rather, when something went wrong. All she could do was help him prepare as best she could and pray, nightly, that he would come out of this in one piece. Gently the young brunette ran her fingers through her man's hair again and sighed softly. She wished he could spend all of his time like this, worry-free and safe, but she knew he had far more troubles ahead than either of them could foresee, but she would be there, by his side, for as long as she possibly could.

-:-

Winter was not Neville's favourite time of year; most of the plants died back or went into extended periods of hibernation that only plants can achieve. But spring, spring was a wonderful time to be Neville Longbottom, especially in the Scottish highlands. Currently the slightly overweight boy was up to his knees in the cold waters of the Black Lake, thick waders covering his legs up to his thighs and a strange collection of lenses mounted on a headpiece over his head. Anyone, especially a wizard, looking at him would have thought him mad. But a herbologist would have recognized the magically waterproof boots and enchanted collection of lenses that was allowing the teenager to stare directly through the murky water to spot the plants he was looking for.

He held his wand in one hand and a handful of vine-like waterweed in the other, he was perfectly still and the water around him was undisturbed. All of a sudden a dark blur rushed from the riverbed, not larger than the boy's head, and leaped out of the water straight at him. A short burst of sound and the small water demon was blasted back into the depths but the boy kept moving, reaching down into the water and gripping the base of the weed the creature was clinging to before it attacked. With a short yank Neville recovered the strand of Gillyweed from the Gillymort's home. Apparently satisfied at last the boy headed back for the shore, carefully removing his goggles and letting them rest about his neck as he began squeezing the weeds in his hand to remove some of the moisture from them.

The next few days would be somewhat boring as he allowed the strands of useful weed to dry; the plant was notoriously fickle and rarely did multiple strands from the same plant contain the magical signature that gave the plant its properties. Neville had theorized that the Gillymorts fed on whatever natural substance gave the Gillyweed its properties and that was why it was so hard to find useable plants and strands even in a dense underwater grove of the plant. To try and prove his theory Neville had decided to only collect plants for drying that had a Gillymort feeding on them. The trouble was that the blighters were annoyingly quick at destroying the crop and to achieve the goal Neville had to be in the water removing them at the very beginning of spring before they had a chance to totally decimate the harvest.

He was hoping that all of this would improve the stocks of Gillyweed on the market; it was frighteningly useful in a variety of potions and even had some use as a healing aid to people dying of drowning because of its ability to allow people to breathe water for short periods of time. Aurors often carried a small portion of the herb just in case they needed to do a water rescue, rare as those were. The issue was that the herb was notoriously expensive to recover; large quantities had to be harvested and dried, then tested to see if any were actually useful. Hopefully if he could prove his theory then it would make collecting even large quantities of the herb much, much simpler.

As he reached the castle, still wearing his waders that were now dry, he met Harry and Hermione coming from another part of the grounds but heading in the same direction. Harry, still looking a bit groggy, asked him with a raised eyebrow, "Nice getup there Nev, what's with the weeds?"

"Gillyweed, I'm trying to prove a theory that could have the production of such a valuable herb increase as it's usually quite rare."

Neville and Harry both looked at Hermione who had uttered a loud gasp, her voice as slightly shaky as she asked, "When those are dry and tested Neville, I don't suppose we could borrow a couple of strands?"

Neville shrugged. "Sure, I don't really need them myself once I've proven my point, you can have the lot."

Hermione actually hugged him; Neville felt the air get squeezed out of him for barely a second before the two other teens were gone, dashing up the stairs of the entrance hall with yelled goodbyes. Neville shrugged and continued on, chuckling about 'hare-brained muggleborns'

-:-

Harry was nervous, despite the time at Oxford he still hadn't mastered swimming, and here he was on the edge of the Black Lake, with a weed of all things clutched in his shivering hand. Despite Neville's assurances that it was 'dried' it was still rather slimy. Hermione had explained the properties of the weed and from the ten dried plants that Neville had given them Hermione had sized off fifteen portions that would last him for exactly seventy minutes, more than enough time to get in and out of the lake. All they had to do now was find out if it cancelled the magical draining issues that he had been having. The current sample would only last for ten minutes, enough to test it, but not so long that if something went wrong Harry would be confined to the water until it ran out, potentially killing him.

There was only one way to find out. Anxiously he glanced across to Hermione who was rolling her own portion of the weed in her fingers; she had insisted on accompanying him into the water to help him if he got into trouble. Locking gazes and, after a second, minds, they gulped down their portions and headed into the water. They pushed out into the lake. Harry somewhat hesitantly followed his girlfriend as she moved forwards with a powerful breast stroke. He swam out himself in a moderate front crawl as she turned to watch him. It was cold, so, so very cold, and he nearly lost his breath as the water hit his chest for the first time. And then, all of a sudden, the air became burning hot, it was like his throat was on fire as he tried to greedily gulp in air to quench the flames, dimly he could hear Hermione both out loud and in his mind trying to tell him something but it was no use.

Spots started to swim in front of his vision and he sank backwards into the water, only to suddenly regain his breath. The last time before Oxford he had gone swimming he had nearly drowned; Dudley and his gang had gone to a public pool and dragged him along, only to get him out in the middle of the deep end and then leave him there, thrashing about as he sank deeper into the water. Only the lifeguard had saved him at that point and that memory was forefront in his mind. He was panic stricken as the water enveloped him for a moment; where was the crushing pain and darkness he had experienced before? Was he already dead?

Then he opened his eyes and caught sight of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: Hermione, down to her one piece, performing the most amazing underwater acrobatics. Her body twisting upon itself to find new directions and angles to propel herself on with the powerful webbed feet and hands she had gained. Abruptly Harry realized that he too was sporting webbed hands and feet and was quite comfortably, almost instinctively, holding himself in place in the water with tiny movements. A rushing sensation flowed over his neck as he breathed deep of the water; tentatively he moved his hand to his neck and touched it to the gills there, fascinated with the way they fluttered in the water.

Looking up he saw Hermione's smiling face in front of him, her beautiful long hair fanned out around her in the water, drifting eerily. A warm soft touch covered his hands and he looked down to see her holding his with hers. A wave of emotions, happiness, pride, comfort, love, flowed through from her along with a single line of thought.

"How's your magic love?"

Gently he separated his wand hand from her and gestured into the water with a kinetic sorcel. The wand strapped to his wrist created a powerful vortex for a moment in the water before letting it die away. Turning back to her he smiled, noting for the first time that having the water in his mouth no longer bothered him. He sent back a burst of happiness as he realized he wasn't suffering the effects of whatever was draining his magic. Happily he took Hermione's hand and they powered together through the water; for the next five minutes they enjoyed the new freedom and basked in the happy emotions coming from each other. This would make the coming task easier, and it allayed many of Hermione's fears. Here was concrete evidence that Harry would be able to protect himself underwater.

Eventually they had to surface and when they did Harry felt Hermione's somewhat cold body leap into his arms hugging him furiously, her happy voice drowning out any further worries. "This will work Harry! You can do this. You can beat them."

Somehow Harry knew that the 'them' she was talking about was not the other champions.

-:-

There was only one thing left to do before the task; they had found their solution, and they'd tested it, even trained with it. Harry was now a somewhat competent swimmer and particularly proficient with the Gillyweed. But still Fleur was ignoring them. Eventually Harry had to resort to leaving a note on her door for her to find. Hedwig it seemed couldn't get into her room to deliver one personally. For the first time Harry wished he knew the spell that inundated someone with letters similar to what happened to the Dursleys before his eleventh birthday.

On the eighteenth of February Fleur met them at breakfast in the Great Hall. She looked, for want of a better word, terrible. Her hair was dishevelled, her eyes had bags under them and her skin was pale. Not the beautiful lustrous pale of her healthy state, this was a sickly pallor that made Harry and Hermione cringe in sympathy. This was what a Veela in pain looked like, and it wasn't pretty. Hermione flicked Harry with her mind, telling him to help her. Gently the young man wrapped the French witch in his arms, pulling her close and letting her bask in the feedback from the unfulfilled bond that was slowly tearing her life apart.

"Why did you do this to yourself Fleur?"

No answer came from her as she began lightly sobbing into his shoulder tearfully apologizing, for what Harry and Hermione had no idea but it was heartfelt nonetheless. Eventually they managed to calm her down enough to understand what she was apologizing for. When they figured out what was going on they shushed her gently and did their best to calm her down saying it wasn't her fault. Neither of them blamed her for the bond her magic had thrown her into with Harry; she was still their friend and sequestering herself wasn't helping anyone. It took time and a walk around the lake but eventually they had her calmed down. The next conversation however was sure to cause worry.

-:-

A mix of emotions, ranging between worried and excited, ran through Fleur's mind; the idea of the Gillyweed wasn't one she had considered before, mostly because of its rarity. But now with the opportunity in front of her did she really want to put her magic in the responsibility of a weed? Regardless of Harry's incompatibility with water Fleur was a Veela; water itself was anathema to her... could this weed fix that? The other two were with her mostly because Hermione wouldn't be able to manhandle her body out of the water on her own; magic apparently was a terrible thing to use on Veela who'd had their magic drained because the Veela would just absorb everything thrown at them to stay alive. Harry wasn't alone because Hermione still wasn't comfortable with him and Fleur being alone, and Fleur didn't blame her. She had been initially nervous about letting Harry see her in her swimsuit for this test. Would that finally break through his iron resolve and turn him into a gibbering idiot?

Fortunately her concerns had been baseless; Harry had eyes only for his girlfriend. Somewhere in the back of her mind that gave her the usual feelings of loneliness and despair. She ruthlessly shoved them aside though; she couldn't break down now, not when the potential for her to get through this accursed tournament was right here in her hand. Fleur was looking better; she wanted to say that the morning with Harry and Hermione had done her good, but really it was just the morning with Harry. Annoyingly, even when it caused her so much pain to be around them, just being around Harry actually made her feel better. Being near them caused her pain, being away from him caused her pain. It was a catch twenty-two of the worst proportions.

She decided she might as well enjoy their company and make the best of it. But for now… she rolled the slimy weed between her fingers, taking a sort of weird amusement from the way it squirmed. The idea of swallowing the stuff disgusted her. She shrugged; take one for the team right?

It tasted _disgusting_, especially to a palate used to tasting elegant French cuisine; the house elves at Hogwarts had been adept at keeping her eating her usual foods. But this…this was the foulest thing she had ever tasted. But, she could already feel it working, even as the three of them swam out into the lake she felt the gills sprouting on her throat. Supressing the urge to gulp in air the elegant Veela slipped her head beneath the water.

Instantly everything became sharp, the sights around her, the smells, the scents of creatures in the murk. The sight of Hermione and Harry swimming elegantly around her in the water was especially sharp. Tentatively she reached out with her magic and, to her surprise she was able to cast a weak sorcel; weak, yes, but a sorcel nonetheless. Apparently the Gillyweed couldn't totally suppress her Veela nature, for which she was actually thankful; it was a part of her after all, annoyingly pain-filled bonds aside.

But this…this could work. Apparently the Gillyweed changed enough of her physiology, if only temporarily, for the water not to completely drain her of her powers. She could complete the task like this. Apparently the other two had figured this out as well and were grinning as the semi-Veela witch swam around gleefully in the water.

-:-

The last month had been nothing short of gruelling for Harry, with the swimming practise, the duelling practise he and Hermione regularly engaged in to condition themselves for the next stage of the duelling tournament, and regular classes, especially DADA and Transfiguration. Moody and McGonagall must have agreed to work their students into the ground in the last few weeks because those two classes were getting harder by the day. Transfiguration was being especially troublesome.

The root of the problem came not with the difficulty of the spells, or even their power requirements, which were moderate. It was the frequency with which they were asked to cast them that was making the fourth years struggle. Harry had spotted Ernie Macmillan stumbling out of the Transfiguration classroom a few days before he and Hermione caught up with Fleur. The Hufflepuff boy was being supported by one of his housemates and was looking slightly delirious as they headed to the hospital wing.

The spells that were causing everyone so much grief were stone-to-metal transfigurations, the idea of turning various types of rocks into base metals of the same mass. The conversion was actually quite an easy one; many rocks actually shared some base particles with the metals they were being converted into so the transfiguration was easy. But, as McGonagall explained, the transfiguration itself was not what they were learning, but rather to do the transfiguration without thinking, to make it a simple, easy, thoughtless process. Why they would need to convert rocks into metal no one really knew, but they had been promised that the answer would be coming shortly.

Moody on the other hand had them working on complex chains, something Harry had been looking forward to since Moody had mentioned them weeks and weeks ago. Up until recently they had only practised chains of one type of sorcel, either UMF, kinetic, or hexwork. But now they were mixing the sorcels together, flowing from offense into defence into offense again using a variety of sorcels and body movements. It was long, hard, taxing study but Harry was proud that as far as he was aware, they were the only pre-NEWT class to have progressed this far. Most of the other classes were still bogged down in hexwork.

The issue was that the complex chains took a _lot_ of energy. Harry and Hermione were the only pair who had avoided near magical exhaustion on their first lesson. Fit as the class was from the exercise they got in Moody's class it wasn't enough to keep up with the gruelling pace. It wasn't that the transition between the sorcel types was particularly taxing; rather it was the number and speed of sorcels they were expected to use. Sorcery was after all a direct draw on your energy and flowing from a high-powered offensive sorcel into a draining hex, back into a powerful shield and then banishing the hex-transfigured object with a kinetic sorcel, wasn't easy.

The catalyst apparently had been when the entire class had progressed into advanced hexwork, much to Moody's delight; he apparently hadn't been expecting people to get this far and with the whole class, even Neville, able to produce powerful hexes, he had decided that it was time to move on to these complex sorcery chains. Hexwork was something Harry still struggled with sometimes, despite his raw power potential and his strong will; he often had trouble maintaining the image of what he wanted to change in his mind, especially whilst parrying Moody's stinging hexes with his other hand.

Hermione however was a natural; she could almost instantly hex a pile of rubble into a cluster of metal darts, or a large shield. She had a particularly nasty trick that involved hexing the top layer of the floor beneath one's feet to water, and then the layer beneath that to ice, creating a nearly frictionless surface that was impossible to remain upright on. Harry used a slightly different method when he needed speed; whereas Hermione would hex a pile of rubble into a shield to hover in front of her, Harry would simply assemble the rubble into a rough shield with a kinetic sorcel. Whereas Hermione would create ice beneath people's feet, Harry would gust their legs out from under them with a quick show of force. Hermione's metal darts were replaced by a hail of pebbles.

They each had their strategies and while Harry was stronger with kinetic sorcels and Hermione was a near-savant with hexwork they worked almost seamlessly together. When they were allowed to meld their minds together to practise fighting like that, they rarely failed at anything they attempted; so seamless was their blending that they didn't even think about what they had to do, both bodies simply _did_. It wasn't perfect though; they still weren't disciplined enough to hold the connection for any great length of time and they had trouble if anyone opposed them like that. Not a huge amount, but it was more difficult than if they had been separate. For tasks that didn't have opposition however they could achieve nearly anything together.

Well…nearly anything till now. The complex chains had thrown a spanner in the works for them that they had yet to adequately resolve. When they were both asked to perform the same chain they were fine, but as soon as they were asked to perform a different chain with each wand issues started occurring where one chain of sorcels would overlap with the other, sorcels would be exchanged between the two casting points like water on a flat surface and the form of their casting would quickly be lost.

They had done another mock duelling practise between the six students in the class the Tuesday before the second task. The improvement in everyone had been astounding. Harry was, much to Hermione's equal pride and chagrin, the undisputed top of class, able to outduel any of them with a handful of sorcels. Hermione and, surprisingly, Seamus, were the only ones who could even begin to stand up to Harry's assault; Hermione only because of her amazing ability to hex _air_ into solid cover that she could utilize, and Seamus because of his incredible capacity to fill an area with sorcels that actually forced Harry to go on the defensive. Harry didn't take that lying down however and was able to strike back with broadband kinetic sorcels that swept Seamus off his feet before pummelling him with hits from multiple directions.

The bout between Harry and Hermione was always one that the entire class enjoyed watching; it was like observing a lovers' quarrel with words. Where some couples knew just what to say to make their partner feel horrible, Harry and Hermione knew exactly what the other's tricks were and how to slip between each other's defences. Harry often joked that it was the reason why they never argued, because they were locked in a state of mutually assured destruction.

For every shield that Hermione summoned, Harry would have a kinetic sorcel shoving it aside; for every offensive thrust of Harry's, Hermione would have a parry ready to make a counter attack. Inevitably however Harry carried the day each time; at the end of it he was simply faster, more powerful, and more determined. Hermione was creative in her defence however and often made Harry work for it, but he would not be denied.

All of this boiled down to an extremely exciting day for the Gryffindor fourth years. Lavender and Parvarti were amusing when they duelled, not because they went easy on each other, but rather they seemed to work out their differences on the duelling mats and quickly became catty and vicious, using powerful strings of sorcels designed to cause the other pain before finishing each other off. Harry was always privately glad that he was such a good duellist; he didn't want to be on the end of some of those sorcels.

After that particularly gruelling day Harry decided to exercise his champion's rights for the first time and spend the following four days preparing and recuperating instead of going to classes. It would turn out to be a very good idea.

-:-

Harry was alone. A couple of hours before, Professor McGonagall came and asked for Hermione to assist her with something; when she didn't come back it wasn't too much of a stretch to figure out what had happened. Obviously he needed a hostage of some kind to 'rescue'; judging by the clue from the egg Hermione would indeed be the thing he would miss most. As irked as he was to hear her called a 'thing' he couldn't deny that being on his own for the first time in months was heart-rending. One thing that he and Hermione still hadn't perfected was keeping their bond open over long distances. And right then Harry had no idea what was happening to her.

He felt…hollow, weak, and empty. Until then he hadn't realized how much he depended on her constant comforting weight in his mind. It was like a duvet draped over his thoughts when they were together; warm, comforting, and just the right amount of weight to feel perfect, but this…he never thought that having a weight taken off his mind would feel bad; never before had the expression brought such deep-seated revulsion from him. He wanted her back; he wanted her in his arms, in his mind again. He needed her, his Hermione.

The young teen closed his eyes and for the umpteenth time reached out desperately into the void with his mind, questing incessantly for the touch he so craved. Harry's breathing grew short, laboured as his body threw more and more energy into keeping his tenuous probe afloat. Eventually though, his eyes snapped open and the young man collapsed back against the pillows panting heavily in exertion. It was no use; no matter how hard he searched she was just too far away.

With an annoyed sigh Harry laid back and closed his eyes, trying to force back the onrushing tide of loneliness that had sprung up after the failed attempt to connect with Hermione. Quietly, the young man whispered a prayer into the darkness even as his weary mind slipped into sleep.

-:-

Typically the day of the task dawned with false cheer. As Harry approached the Black Lake for the task, Gillyweed clutched nervously in his hand, he wondered for the latest time what would happen beneath the waters that day. What horror would be waiting for him in those depths? He hoped it wasn't the squid; he could probably deal with anything else, just not the giant squid. Fleur and Cedric both looked pale as he stepped up beside them on the dock where they would leap into the water. He didn't say anything; none of them did. Harry hoped for Hogwarts' sake that Cedric put up a better show this time for them. Giant screens made of polished had been erected that showed an over-the-shoulder view of the champions; Harry looked up at his and frowned at the pale look on his face.

He felt numb as Krum stepped up to the dock, a frighteningly glazed look on his face as if he was reconsidering the sanity of entering this accursed tournament. Dimly, Harry heard Bagman and his magnified voice booming over the stands. Everything went quiet, the sound of the crowd was blotted out, Bagman's voice faded to a nonsensical whine; he just had to get through this, get Hermione, and get to the surface. He shot a sideways look at Fleur who seemed to be watching him with concern.

"Let's do this."

-:-

The sound of Bagman's whistle cut through the haze around Fleur's mind; mechanically she shoved the Gillyweed into her mouth and swallowed, trying hard not to concentrate on the taste as she speared into the surface of the lake, like an elegant silver arrow. Suddenly, just as before, her vision sharpened dramatically; she could see with perfect detail the other three contestants pushing through the water. Diggory had concocted some kind of bubblehead charm that Fleur didn't recognize, Krum had transfigured half of his body into a shark, and Harry was already powering away in a blur of bubbles, his training with the Gillyweed abruptly paying off as he struck out well ahead of the other champions.

Fleur leaned forwards in the water and kicked her legs strongly, forcing her body to ignore the tightness on its magic, her magic, and go deeper into the crushing depths. Seconds before, the water had been icy cold, and had threatened to turn her stomach, but now it felt warm, comforting. She could feel the Veela within her shrink back in confusion, unaware of the circumstances of their bodily change. It was an important distinction, she thought dimly; the Veela was not her, and it was separate, on its own. Lately it had been acting independently of the common good for their body, throwing her love at a man spoken for, driving painful spikes into her soul as she fought against impulses burned into her flesh. This was payback, down here, in the water, with her magic suppressed. She was queen, she made the rules, and today, they were going to fight for the right to continue in this tournament.

The lake was massive, easily over a hundred meters deep at its deepest point, likely deepened with magic to accommodate the squid. That of course meant that getting to the bottom would take time, then she still had to search for her sister. Her sister...she had been incensed when her mamma had sent her an owl explaining what the Headmaster had done. Spirited away in the night; apparently they couldn't risk her family refusing. She felt a well of anger build in the pit of her stomach, and an angry roiling sensation that threatened to force the shift upon her. She did not want that, not dozens of meters deep as she already was; that would be fatal.

Grimly the elegant Veela pushed on, hoping to hear the mermaid song that would guide her to her goal.

-:-

Blackness, cold, crushing, endless dark, Cedric could feel the water pressing against his body, forcing him deeper like lead weights attached to his ankles. He couldn't fight it, he couldn't swim up, and his entire body was being forced down into the water. He had been quickly separated from the other champions; they were all faster than he was, Krum with that transfiguration, the other two with what looked like Gillyweed. It didn't matter; judging by this feeling he had been singled out. He wasn't going to be completing the task; he might never even see the sun again.

Strong hands wrapped around his wrists, strangely vicelike in their grip, yet overly cold and hard, like ice. He couldn't see, outside of his bubblehead charm was only inky blackness. He began to panic, the hands weren't letting go; rather, they were helping the pulling sensation, they were pulling him down.

He tried to thrash, but without sight or any kind of indicator he had no idea if he was achieving anything. His arms and legs felt numb and the hands on his wrists never seemed to falter, iron-like in their grip. He wasn't weak, not by any stretch; Quidditch had lent him a lean strong body, similar to the one Harry enjoyed, but bulked up with an additional three years of training and testosterone. There were only a handful of people in the school who could beat him in raw physical strength. So when he felt those cold hard hands not even twitch as he thrashed about, an iron grip on his wrists, he knew he was doomed.

He tried yelling, but found that he couldn't. His mouth was locked shut; he tried to clear the inky dark with a sorcel, but nothing happened. In horror he felt more hands clasp to his limbs and begin to pull. Deeper he was dragged, ever deeper until he had no sense of time or distance. It seemed to last an eternity. Finally he felt his back press against hard stone; they had reached the bottom. But to his horror the hands did not stop. They tugged on his limbs pulling them past their joints, breaking them, tearing them from his body. Pain coursed through his body like a living beast, tearing at his nerves and then abruptly cutting them off as his extremities were pulled inexorably from his torso. Even as the pain and shock threatened to force him into unconsciousness, a_ thing_ passed straight through his bubblehead charm and he was face to face with a head that looked oddly human, but was sculpted from what looked like solid ice. To his horror the 'head' parted into four, along the horizontal and vertical axes, revealing a maw of razor sharp icicle like teeth.

The last thing Cedric Diggory ever saw was that maw as it descended towards him.

-:-

Harry was utterly alone; he had been since late the previous night and the feeling still hadn't passed, at least not until just now. Suddenly a spike of emotion washed over him; it was jumbled and dull but it was unmistakably Hermione, it was unmistakably Hermione asleep. Urging himself forward he speared around the rock face he was hugging and saw a sight that took his breath away. Sunken into a crevasse beneath him, on the bottom of the lake, was a simple village; the houses made of rocks and driftwood were attached to the crevasse walls which were nearly two dozen meters apart. Suspended between the two sides of the crevasse and the buildings hanging there was a series of what Harry assumed were platforms, although he could see no reason for them as Merpeople didn't walk.

A pulse of emotion from Hermione reminded him of his task and he powered forwards, searching for where the hostages were hidden. As he passed the level of the platforms he laid eyes on an incredible and horrifying sight. The crevasse had been filled in, likely from hundreds of years of silt falling into it, and a flat sandy floor covered the entirety of its width. In the centre of this floor was a spire of rock, maybe eight meters tall, to which four people were tethered, their hair floating ominously around them. Hermione was there, Harry noted before his eyes locked on the true spectacle.

All around the spire were the bodies of Merpeople, dozens of them, torn limb from limb, tail from body, and their necks gory stumps where heads used to be. They were tethered to small stony plinths, their arms and tails speared to the ground with iron harpoons. Harry felt bile rise in his throat; something had gone horribly wrong. As he swam towards the rock, hoping beyond hope that he could get Hermione out of there and call for help his eyes passed over a spot just in front of the spire. Those were legs. Not a tail; those were legs, harpooned to the lakebed with iron spikes, and between them was the torso of a teenage boy clad in a Hufflepuff house singlet and black swimming trunks. Harry really, really didn't want to throw up; it would be disgusting in the water and he had to stop a moment to get a handle on himself. Then, redoubled, he set at getting Hermione free; there would be time to mourn later, but whatever was doing this wasn't messing around, it was very, very deadly.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and in his surprise nearly blasted it away. As he turned around to do just that he was met with the eyes of Fleur Delacour who looked more mournful than anything he had ever seen. He gave her a shaky nod and set back to getting Hermione free from the heavy ropes that held her in place. Angrily he fired a cutting sorcel at them and was gratified when they sliced cleanly. Looking across he saw that Fleur had done much the same and caught the transfigured Krum out of the corner of his eye as they started to ascend. Could they get out of this alive?

Realizing that no one was coming for her Harry sliced Cho's bonds as well and with a flick of his wrist sent her ascending to the surface rapidly. Krum was already ascending, a tall lanky man in his arms that looked vaguely familiar. And Fleur was close behind. Then everything went wrong; strange jets arced out from the buildings to either side of the crevasse walls, attaching to Fleur and yanking her back down into the deep. Anguished, Harry sped ahead only to see more jets going for not only Fleur, but himself as well. Hastily he threw up a pair of shields, hexing the water into sheets of free floating ice that seemed to easily halt the jets. For that he was thankful, but they didn't stop appearing, and Fleur was sinking.

-:-

In Harry's life he could remember maybe a half-dozen times where he had lost control of his magic; when he was four and he had punched Dudley so hard the boy needed surgery, when he was five and he somehow apparated onto the roof of the school trying to escape Dudley on his first day. When he was six and Ripper's legs were dislocated as he tried to chase Harry up a tree. When he was nine and all of his tormenters were thrown from their bikes as they circled him on Magnolia Crescent, and when he was eleven and his hair grew back refusing to remain trimmed.

Now he had another incident to add to his list, when he was fourteen, and two people he cared about very much were in mortal danger. It was well known that Harry was a powerful wizard; he could overpower seventh-years in duelling with ease, he could blast apart spires of rock with a wave of his wand. When he was angry his entire body thrummed with power. And when he did the improvised test he and Hermione had designed, it took nineteen hours to drain him completely.

He was refreshed now; he had spent several days resting to prepare him for this task. And now it all paid off. If anyone could have watched Harry's magic like a physical thing, they would have seen dozens of great loops of it arc out from his body and sink deep into the rock faces on either side of him. Then they pulled.

The crevasse imploded, the walls pulling together in a colossal impact of massive chunks of rock and driftwood as the houses were thrown against each other smashing together with impacts that left the wood smashed to splinters and the rocks pounded to dust. A great shockwave of energy smashed out in a rapidly expanding sphere that over a hundred meters up created a colossal jet of water that sprayed into the sky.

Back beneath the water, in the centre of the maelstrom, Harry had grabbed Fleur, who miraculously was still holding her hostage. With a flick of his mind he refocused his magic, which was now pushing the debris out of the way, towards the floor of the lake. With an incredible sense of speed Harry and the three girls were shoved towards the surface as his magic propelled them upwards and out of the danger. They didn't get far; his magic gave out barely a second after they cleared the crevasse's remains. And the last thing he saw before the familiar darkness claimed him was dozens of robed figures swimming towards them from above.

-:-

When Hermione came to, it was with an abrupt suddenness that was disorienting. There was no gentle rise from sleep or slow awakening; one second she was unconscious and under the effects of the potion, and the next she was wide awake, sitting up and staring about with wide eyes, trying to make sense of the situation. All around her was chaos, people yelling and screaming, crying, shouting, wailing even. It was eerily similar to the aftermath of the explosion in the first task. One word flashed through her mind, Harry.

She looked around with more fervour, searching for the black-haired youth who had taken her heart so beautifully. She shifted her hand and felt a weight next to her to which her eyes immediately snapped. Relief filled her body; Harry was in one piece, and he just looked asleep. Hermione's demeanour changed then as she felt the familiar warmth of Harry's sleeping mind; she didn't need to check for a pulse, that was enough for her. With more calmness now she looked around and her eyes finally focused on another pair of bodies; Fleur and a young girl who Hermione assumed must be her sister, Gabrielle. The beautiful French witch spoke of her sister often and had regaled Harry and Hermione with many tales of her exploits, childish as they were.

Turning in the other direction let her spot a standing Krum who was talking to what looked like an older version of him, a brother maybe? Hadn't they seen him at the World Cup? And if she remembered, back to the night he had accompanied Karkaroff into the castle on the arrival day? Beyond them was a sobbing Cho Chang, with no Cedric in sight. Hermione's heart clenched; why was everyone yelling? Wailing? Screaming? What had happened in the lake? She turned back to Harry, knowing instinctively, and through past experience, that the unconscious young sorcerer was in the centre of all of this. When was he not? Gently she brushed his unruly locks back from his face as he had done for her so many times before.

It was strange, with the world in chaos around them, Fleur unconscious, Cedric missing, maybe worse, none of it seemed to matter to her except the young man at her side. He was the only thing that would ever matter to her ever again.

She just hoped he woke soon.

-:-

AN3: Well... There's another chapter, there are a lot of unanswered questions for you all to mull over this time, a lot of confusion. That's deliberate. Also Cedric died… that was a thing. And what were those things at the bottom of the lake? Also Harry's a badass but what's knew am I right?

AN4: Review responses

Vegasman: I have a few things lined up for Ginny still. But nothing concrete, certainly not main plot.

Colonel Killgore: Ahhhhh sorry. Idk, thresomes/moresomes, just don't do it for me… not really. Idk, I'll think about writing a story with the three of them at some point down the line, but not this one, or any in the Deceit series.

PezBerry: Great to hear from you, and I'm happy you're enjoying it. Keep reading by all means ^.^

Jarno: There are reasons why Harry didn't lash out at them, mostly because people in abusive environments think that if they do it will only be worse for them later, there are other, deeper reasons but that's the main one.

God of all: Yessir

Darkheart: Yuuup, that fallout has yet to come, but I'll cover it soon, likely in the next chapter.

Rimtuuk: Thank you, Thank you, and sorry, not happening.

Mustangmark: Thank you, maybe, I don't want to spoil anything.

Starboy: Thanks!

Shukokage: She deserved it.

Plotbunny: o.0 Thanks… I guess.

BMS: /Shrug, I'm here to write my own story, not fiddle with canon.

Newengland: You'd be surprised how much self-control people can have especially when they actually respect each other. Don't worry about the relationship between them, that's for me to concern myself with and if you don't like it, feel free to stop reading. Thank you for the comments about the magic system, I put an awful lot of effort into weaving it into the canon magic to make things the best they can, it's a shame I don't get more comments about it. As for the 'death clause' that stops Harry from dying? It's a key part of the plot don't worry, it will be explained more later.

Pairingmatters: Thank you for your comments and continued reading. I hope this serves to entertain you.

Akasanta: Thanks!

Anotherboarduser: Interesting ideas. But not where this story is going, you'll just have to wait and see but thanks for the review regardless.

Beyondthesea: The Weasleys have been hit hard by all of this, Ron's death, Ginny's steadily loosening grip on reality. Any family would have a hard time bouncing back from that. The family as a whole will come up again soon, hopefully things will be explained more then.

Jabarber: Thanks! Nice to hear someone shares my views, this story is only going to get darker by the way, so hold onto your seat.

Darkow: Interesting ideas, I might use some of them. Thanks.

Once again thanks everyone for reading and other shenanigans, the next chapter: Evening before the dark, will help to clear up some of the questions raised in this chapter, see you all soon!

Finally, I've got a new Beta reader! That's right I'd like to personally thank Texan-muggle for his efforts to not only forward-Beta but also back-Beta the previously uploaded chapters, so keep a keen eye on developments.

LGreymark


	16. Evening Before the Dark

AN: Disclaimer as per usual, you know the drill.

-:-

Chapter fifteen: Evening Before The Dark

Madam Pomfrey would have to start charging him rent. As Harry's eyes flickered open he once again spied the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing. Without looking he knew Hermione would be on the left side of his bed, watching him even in the predawn light. He wondered if she had even left, and how long he had been unconscious this time.

Gingerly he twisted at the waist slightly and rolled his shoulders; happy to feel no pain, he finally twisted at the neck to look across at her. The sight before him made his heart swell with happiness. Here she was, hand over her mouth trying not to shed a sob of happiness as Harry finally awoke. Her hair was frightful and had regained some of its bushier nature; apparently she hadn't been sleeping well, and he couldn't blame her. She was wearing light and casual clothing that made Harry suspect it was a weekend.

That either boded very badly or very well; the task had taken place on Saturday morning, so, feasibly, it could be Sunday morning now. That meant that he would only have been unconscious a few hours. Unfortunately it could also have meant he had been out for at least a week; judging by Hermione's hair he suspected the second option. The truth was somewhat more amusing.

After Harry had exchanged soft greetings with his love and she had given him a gentle kiss, she proceeded to explain how, despite Madam Pomfrey's disapproval Hermione had refused to spend the nights without him and had taken to sleeping over in the hospital wing so they could be close; she had woken up about half an hour before and hadn't had time for her usual shower. It was only Tuesday morning.

Despite being close to him however it had been nigh on impossible for her to get sleep; apparently she hadn't been able to touch his mind at all and it had been scaring her more than she cared to admit. In words anyway; when Harry let his mind flow over hers and obliterate the boundaries between them he knew exactly how scared she had been. Gently he reassured her that he was safe and well. A task that, with the evidence before her, was remarkably easy to achieve.

She filled him in on what had happened while he had been asleep.

-:-

The school around Hermione had not been idle in those two or three days. Dumbledore had recovered the dead from the basin of the lake; Cedric had been returned to his family, mutilated though he was, for burial. The villagers of the Merfolk settlement, all of them slaughtered, had been relocated to a colony in the Baltic for their own interment in ceremonial underwater graves. Once the dead had been recovered the lake had been purged. It had been an incredible sight when Dumbledore had let his magic flow into the water, boiling the entire mass until the surface of the lake steamed. The Giant squid had been placed in stasis for the event. The fish could be replaced.

The entire school, along with the Durmstrang delegates, had seen the entire underwater event due to the magical view screens. The moment danger had been spotted dozens had leapt into the water to swim to the aid of the competitors; hastily cast bubblehead charms and propulsion charms were the order of the day.

No perpetrators had been caught. But everyone had seen what happened to Cedric, curiously unaffected by the strange black smog the strange icy creatures had emitted the view screens had faithfully and gorily shown the poor boy's demise. Hermione had been spoken to briefly by the headmaster. The conversation had been short and had raised more suspicions about the old man than she had previously. The only piece of information she had gleaned was that the icy creatures were known as Sprites, and were distant cousins of Dementors, except instead of sucking the soul from their victims they preferred to devour the brain and were able to absorb the memories and thoughts of their victims.

After extensive research Hermione had come to the conclusion that the Sprites had been controlled. It was well within their nature; they were common creatures, especially in the North, and were easily dominated by powerful wizards. Oddly however, witches had no control over them and Sprites often ignored female humans completely even when they were totally vulnerable and could be easily devoured.

The fact that they had appeared in the Black Lake was something of a quandary; it was the wrong climate for them here as in the summer months they could easily die. That meant they had been imported, and for one specific reason apparently: to kill Cedric Diggory, and to try and kill Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour. The omission of Victor Krum wasn't unnoticed by Hermione, and it narrowed the suspects down considerably, although even that still left huge room for debate.

Victor Krum came from Durmstrang, a school known for its control and tutelage of the Dark Arts. Victor himself could have been controlling the sprites; it could have been someone who wanted to see him flourish as a wizard (in the darkest sense); it could have been a fan of his Quidditch career. Maybe it was someone who just really hated the British and French. More outlandishly it could even have been someone working entirely against Krum, trying to make him appear as some sort of villain by having the other champions attacked.

She couldn't know for sure on any of the counts, and it was futile to try and whittle down the information further when she had no real leads. She gave up the chase on the trail for the time being; she knew it was pointless to try and work things out, and she just didn't have what she needed to make the connections

-:-

Harry was shocked at first that such dangerous creatures had been smuggled into the school without anyone noticing, but as Hermione pointed out it was actually remarkably easy for aquatic creatures to enter the Black Lake, which in reality was simply just an inlet of sea a bit further north. The Sprites could simply have swum under the ward line after getting through the tributaries. Apparently the wards were specifically designed to allow fish entrance into the lake, mostly to feed the giant squid which had been around longer than anyone could remember.

That had surprised Harry; he had expected the giant creature to be one of Dumbledore's more eccentric pets, but apparently it was older even than Nicolas Flamel. Hermione explained how there was a copy of Flamel's alchemical diaries in the Restricted Section; one of the entries apparently mentioned the already fully-grown giant squid from his time at the castle. It was amusing to Harry in a way that the oldest surviving reminder of the school's antiquity was a creature not easily linked to any of the four founders. Privately Harry preferred it to the basilisk.

Together the reunited lovers examined the scant evidence Hermione had managed to gather about who the perpetrators could be but they both came up blank; as Hermione had lamented the day before, there just wasn't enough information to go on. It was mid-lunchtime when Poppy finally agreed that Harry was back to his usual levels of magical strength and let the two out of her care with strong instructions not to return to the hospital wing at least for the rest of the year.

Harry chuckled and simply thanked the stern woman for her continued care and ministrations, to which the older lady actually smiled and patted him on the shoulder, telling him it was quite all right and that should another accident happen she would be right there to patch up her favourite patient. Jokingly Harry had mentioned rent at which point Poppy had simply told him that being able to treat rare and mysterious injuries was more than enough recompense for his time there.

The pair found their way back to Harry's room eventually, Hermione escorting him to his door to make sure he would be okay, only to walk all the way back to Gryffindor tower to join him in the Champions' suite. There were no classes, and wouldn't be that entire week. The school was still in mourning for Cedric. Privately Harry was angry that the same respect for life hadn't been shown to Ron or Dean, or any of the others who had lost their lives at the World Cup, and very likely to the same threat that had organised the Sprites beneath the lake.

It rankled him that the publicity of the Tournament somehow validated Cedric's life more than Ron's. Quietly Hermione agreed with him but didn't say anything; she knew the politics involved in this tournament and couldn't help but feel sorry for all those who were under threat from whatever was going on at Hogwarts.

-:-

The week passed with something of a deep collective breath in the entire school. They knew things were only going to get worse, and they weren't disappointed. Aurors began flocking into the school, dozens of them scouring the grounds, and not just British aurors, but the French Gendarmes de Magique and the Bulgarian Magical Militia. Classes became tense; for the most part, Moody seemed to be revelling in being able to talk to ex-colleagues and was working his classes even harder.

The other teachers were on edge; classes became tense and even in the corridors, arguments were erupting for no reason. People were nervous, frightened, and angry; no one wanted to raise voice to the fact that their school had become a time bomb, and it was an unspoken agreement that the bomb would go off during the third task.

One thing neither Harry nor Hermione had expected was the backlash of emotion towards Harry, and for some reason, Fleur. If anything, Hermione privately thought one evening, those fools should be angry at Krum; he was the one who had escaped unscathed and in Hermione's opinion was the only champion who looked to be even remotely responsible. But Krum was popular and famous; people were looking to him as the 'lucky survivor'. The school was split between two lines once more, the half who still supported Harry, and the half who still supported Fleur.

These lines were split, almost amusingly, down the gender lines. Fleur was, much to Hermione's disgust, seen as 'a French whore' by the girls of Hogwarts; the news that Harry and Hermione shared a bond of love was latched onto by the overly romantic teenage girls in the school and they saw Fleur as a foreign interloper trying to steal their national hero. The more extreme and vocal of the opinions even went so far as to accuse Fleur of having Cedric killed to further humiliate the British.

Hermione wasn't quite sure how people knew about the unfulfilled bond between Harry and Fleur; the three thought they had been discreet about the whole thing but apparently it had slipped out somehow and the tabloids were rife with speculation that the girls latched onto for fuel. Fleur had been crushed and for over a week had gone back to avoiding Harry and Hermione; eventually they managed to corner her and force her to accept that they weren't as shallow-minded as their peers.

The other half of the school of course was the guys, and many of them thought Fleur could do no wrong; the rest thought Harry had orchestrated Cedric's death to 'get him out of the way'. Many of them still thought, rather irrationally, that Harry had been instrumental in his inclusion in the tournament and, the Hufflepuffs especially, thought he only wanted more glory. Small exchanges of spell fire were common occurrences in the halls of Hogwarts, girls throwing somewhat nasty hexes at boys and vice versa.

Harry and Hermione had, much to Hermione's chagrin, been surrounded by a somewhat terse collection of female bodyguards. Harry himself found the situation rather amusing and actually did his best to get to know them and make friends but Hermione had to keep her ire in check. The only reason she did so was because, unfortunately, they were actually helpful. Several times between classes either she or Harry had been the recipient of curses and even sorcels thrown his way by hidden targets. Shield charms and defensive sorceries sprung up from all quarters from the ever-present band of females who had taken it upon themselves to keep 'the golden couple' safe.

Fleur had, at first, received similar treatment from several of the older Hogwarts males but had quickly shrugged them off as several of them had gotten a bit grabby and had nearly used their numbers to force her into a situation that she was not at all comfortable with. Harry and Hermione had at that point personally stepped in and stunned several of the offending young men and the young Veela had clung to Harry like a lifeline. The boys hadn't gotten far but it was too close a reminder to what had happened to her before Christmas.

Things calmed down after that for the most part, the novelty wore off and people went back to their daily lives.

-:-

The months passed quickly; the third and final task was scheduled for the twenty-fourth of June just before the end of the school year. The intervening four months were some of the most trying and difficult times thus far, at least as far as academics were concerned. The fourth years had begun to feel the pressure of the end of the year; teachers were beginning to make noises towards preparing the class for OWL study and with increased homework, classwork and assignments, not to mention the draining nature of the magic they were attempting across the board, the fourth year class was beginning to feel the strain.

Not even a month previous if you had asked Hermione what her favourite class was she would have told you that Transfiguration was, despite the influence from Harry through the bond, her most favoured topic. In those in-between months in the run-up to the third task however, Hermione would have sworn off the class like it was a mouldy pair of socks.

The confusing and draining exercise of transfiguring stone into metal rapidly and repetitively was finally explained. They were going to be using a mixture of shaping charms and transmutational transfiguration to create a project of their choice for the end of the year. Initially this sounded simple but soon enough the additional stipulations were made apparent. The project had to fit within a ten centimetre cube area and had to have at least twenty moving parts.

That on its own was daunting enough, but the final, and most annoying, stipulation was that the device created had to have magical properties; suddenly this brought everything into focus. Stone and gems held magical properties much more strongly than metal. But stone transfigured into metal held the enchantments just as well.

Hermione initially despaired at ever being able to finish the goal, with the amount of work involved in not only planning the device, but actually being required to use the notoriously finicky shaping charms to create miniature moving parts, enchant them with the runic cluster and spell craft enhancers they had recently learned and then transmute them into base metals before fitting the whole lot together.

Now admittedly this task comprised the homework for Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and Runes; students not taking either of the last two classes were conditionally exempt from being required to enchant the device they made under the condition that it was more complex. So the blame did not fall entirely upon Transfiguration, but as the project had been announced in McGonagall's class Hermione took her ire out on her favourite professor.

As if all that wasn't enough Harry had nearly leapt for joy at the task; apparently he already had something in mind and it hadn't taken Hermione long to wheedle out the idea of creating a small magically-powered spider-like robot that could climb walls and ceilings. Hermione had to admit that the device sounded like it could be a lot of fun; she had decided to link her project in with Harry's birthday and make him a wizarding watch. Keeping the task a secret from him was impossible of course and she would need his help with fitting it regardless but he didn't seem to be worried about the lack of a surprise involved.

Frustratingly, however, the project they were involved in wasn't even the most taxing of their studies; once again DADA took the cake.

-:-

With a continued emphasis on complex chain castings Moody had begun to introduce some more elements of theory in between the classes heavily involved with energy use. He talked at length about the details behind hexwork, which they had still not covered, including its limitations and general uses. For instance, one did not usually try to convert any metal into gold; it was illegal for a start, but also the power requirements were gargantuan. For some reason the magic of sorcery struggled to reproduce the noble metals and gold was no exception. Sublimation, such as Hermione's air-to-stone trick, was ill-advised in a combat situation if you hadn't practised extensively (Hermione had). Getting the hex wrong could result in explosive consequences as pockets of air might be left inside the object under highly compressed conditions; if the container broke the air would be released explosively.

Of course this could be done on purpose and the class had a rare moment of fun one lesson out in the grounds conjuring and propelling fragile pellets filled with compressed air at one another as a sort of live-fire duelling exercise. Moody explained how, with a bit more concentration, instead of using air, a relatively harmless gas, you could compress far nastier substances into the pellets, such as sleeping agents or toxins. A bit of magical trickery later and you could create a fairly nasty automated trap keyed to a specific target's magic or even just a broader release.

One more useful titbit about the pellets that Harry realized but didn't mention was that they could pass through a duellist's shield and were nigh on invisible because of their size and colour, the tiny enamel balls were an excellent addition to his arsenal; even if you shattered them in mid-air the compressed sleeping or toxin gas would be released into the air regardless. Harry would be sure to use a bubblehead charm in future if he was going to use the tiny weapons.

The classes continued like this for months, Moody either drilling them into the ground with increasingly difficult chains of sorcels that were marvellous in their complexity and use, or on other days imparting pieces of sage wisdom, battlefield tactics, the nuts and bolts of sorcery, and even tricks of the trade. Harry could not deny that he found the lessons deeply enjoyable, if not downright exciting and thrilling.

Especially as he (and by extension Hermione) were the only two in the class who could keep up the furious pace that Moody demanded for any length of time, Moody had yet to actually find a spell chain that could bring Harry even close to the state of exhaustion that others often experienced, and he was only getting stronger every day. He and Hermione were now running nearly three full laps of the lake; neither of them complained it was about a ten kilometre run in the morning and, while they had to get up fairly early to perform said run, it was a time of fairly quiet bonding for them.

One would think that Harry and Hermione had already bonded enough, both figuratively and literally, at that point. But the pair was somewhat insatiable when it came to exploring the utilities of their mental link. They had discovered a vast array of abilities that came with the territory, especially as the connection between them, even on a passive level, deepened further.

Their capability to share thoughts and emotions was now a constant presence in their heads; they no longer had to reach for the other with their minds, just flick their thoughts at one another. They could exchange memories of their days; indeed the first lap of their run had become something of a revision period for them. First they would go over every spell they knew, then every sorcel, then between them tried to find interesting and inventive chains between them to expand their repertoire of skills and their arsenal of attacks and defences.

Their second lap had become an informal sharing period. They alternated days; on one day Harry would share, the next Hermione, and so on. The subject matter was their memories; beginning with their earliest recollections they were exchanging all of their life experiences. The reason being that if they both knew the other's life experiences they could better understand where the other was coming from with ideas and opinions, and hopefully become more of a single minded entity that worked through two bodies.

It was a strange concept to be sure; regardless of the fact that they kept their identities and traits, they often obliterated those in favour of becoming truly one. The intimacy of the experience was unparalleled and Hermione once joked that if their intimate touches didn't feel so good they almost wouldn't be necessary as they felt closer and more in love with one another when they inhabited one thought space.

That was not to say that they wanted to completely lose themselves. Hermione was adamant that she wanted to remain her own woman, have her own career after school, her own opinions, her own thoughts. Harry was much the same in that he was a very introspective person and sometimes he needed to take some space to himself, even from her. That was okay though; between them they had no secrets and Hermione knew that Harry didn't want to hide things from her in his periods of isolation, rather it was a time for him to wrap his head around things before bringing them to her to discuss, as she was inevitably quicker on the uptake.

It worked for them, they kept their personalities and identities, but at the same time they were more one being than two. They wouldn't have it any other way.

-:-

Not everything was as peaceful as their morning runs however, or as challenging and engaging as their classes. Much in the same vein as the constant auror presence and the in-school rivalries, Harry and Hermione had become a little disturbed by the latest chain of events; added to those stretching back to August and they were seeing a disturbing pattern emerge. Everyone who had been attacked in the last months, Ron, Dean, Fleur, Cedric, Harry himself; they were all similar attacks. One might link the Quidditch world cup deaths together as the same attack. But later they had learnt that there were no wounded from that night; only four deaths, two of the campground Muggles, Ron and Dean.

All of the attacks were either fatal, or meant to be fatal. No one had any delusions what would have happened to Fleur if she had been raped; as a Veela she wouldn't have survived the experience. The magic in her would have fled, and her body would have died. Cedric had been killed; Ron was dead, as was Dean. Harry had nearly died on a number of occasions, although, annoyingly, more of them were accidents than actual attacks.

Nevertheless the pair were reminded strongly of the callousness that the Valmortis character had when he threw a curse at Hermione. Regardless that Ron had taken the hit, it was still a deathblow, cast with obvious disdain. Another interesting coincidence: Hermione, Dean and the Muggles all shared Muggle ancestry in common; Ron being killed did not alter the fact that Hermione was the target. And since then only Fleur, Cedric and Harry had been attacked, champions.

The whole thing was tantalizingly close to being a solid lead, but there was something missing, some vital piece of information to tie everything together that was just out of reach. No matter how many times they went over it the answer was just out of reach. What was obvious was that Harry was in peril; they had known it since the start of the year, and they had known it since the Halloween feast, since the first task. It was looming over them, implacable, unstoppable, and Harry had to walk right into the maw of this crouching beast. He would have to face it alone, without Hermione at his side; she could not enter the third task with him.

They both hoped he could escape whatever was coming next.

-:-

Fleur was scared; things had been moving quickly around Hogwarts lately, and she knew that Harry was walking into the most deadly of traps. Cedric's death had rattled her more than she cared to admit; he was a competent wizard, of that she was sure, but he had been killed...no, slaughtered, with a chilling ease that struck him when he was most vulnerable.

And she was on her own here; there were no supportive classmates to talk to, and her family couldn't help her either. She had tried explaining the issues with her bond to her mother who had openly scoffed at her. Apparently Appoline thought that Harry could still be bent to her way of thinking; she had no first-hand experience of how close Harry and Hermione were as she had not accompanied Fleur and her father to the Granger residence for dinner that evening.

Currently Fleur was sitting on a windowsill on the seventh floor of the castle next to the entrance to the champions' quarters, looking out across the lake. The late evening sun glistening on the water made the lake appear to be filled with molten gold. It was a beautiful sight in the usually so green and grey Scottish highlands. Her thoughts were mulling over the second task. She had, much to her amazement, actually completed the task; if it hadn't been for the attack she would have been the second one to the surface.

For the first time in six years she had swum; she had been fully immersed in water and not felt like it was crushing the life from her body. She had felt truly free. Yet again Harry had come through for her, bringing her the salvation to her curse; yes, now it was definitely a curse. The Veela in her, the bond, they were not blessings, they were trials designed to make life hard for her. She could not have meaningful relationships with most people because of her allure and looks; she could not make friends or have love. And when her magic finally did find her perfect man, it chose one who is already bonded irrevocably to another, increasing her pain and truly dooming any chance of happiness for her.

As the young French witch looked out over the waters of the Scottish lake she wondered what it would be like to just end it all, to simply leap from her perch and plummet to the rocky shore below. It would free Harry from the onus of the bond; it would let Hermione live her life free of pain and jealousy. And the pain would stop; she would never again have to wake up, or fall asleep, crying silently into her pillow because of the deep-seated ache in her stomach. She would never again feel her heart clench painfully every time Harry and Hermione shared a moment together.

She would be free, and in that moment nothing felt more real than the desire to be free from it all. Calmly she swung her legs out so that she was sitting in the glassless window, her legs dangling and her hair billowing in the wind. She would be free.

She wondered about leaving a note, an apology to her parents, to little Gabrielle whom she so adored. Could she leave them behind? Could she leave Harry to his fate? Could she force Hermione to maybe live with the guilt of being a part of her death? Suddenly she was overwhelmed with the emotion of it all, and strangely, and for the first time she could remember, her Veela stepped in to do something for her, rather than against her.

Without warning she shifted, her arms lengthened and talons sprouted from her fingers, her boots were shredded as the feathered and clawed feet burst from them. A vibrant plume of feathers instantly replaced her silvery locks and, most importantly, a pair of wings erupted from her back, pinions slapping hard against the inner walls of the castle preventing her from leaving her perch on the windowsill. And only then did she hear his voice. Turning sharply she saw Victor standing there, his face unnaturally calm despite the sight in front of him, she supposed he was used to it in the team.

"Fleur, come inside, we should have a talk."

-:-

"Harry…have you heard from the Weasleys since the trial?"

Harry frowned at that; Hermione had raised a good point, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he had received an owl from the Weasleys or talked to Fred and George. It seemed the entire family had receded into mourning for their lost kin. He and Hermione were sitting side-by-side at the enlarged desk provided for him in his room inside the Champions' Quarters, poring over the latest letter from their home in Oxford with Dan and Emma. Though Harry now referred to them as 'mum and dad' in company, in his own mind he still struggled with the distinction; Hermione understood and had helped him to feel better about the differentiation between her birth parents and his, reminding him that James and Lily would be happy to see him loved.

The issue was that Harry felt on occasion like he was betraying their memory, calling another pair of adults by the names that, rightly so, should be reserved for James and Lily Potter. It had taken him a long time, and a lot of Hermione's support as well as letters from 'home', to let him understand that there was nothing wrong with seeing both sets of adults as 'mum and dad'. During the Christmas holidays Dan and Emma had sat down with the teens and explained how children adopted at birth often had similar feelings, although ironically in reverse, when they met their birth parents later in life.

According to them the situation was completely natural and they were comfortable with Harry calling them anything he liked, so long as it was respectful of course. Harry had done his best to look scandalized at some of the more rebellious names they threw around as examples they didn't appreciate; really though, he and Hermione had just been deeply amused at the slang from several decades past.

All of it had boiled down to Harry just needing to work out in his own mind what Dan and Emma were to him; the situation was deeply confused by the fact that he was in love with their daughter. In all truthfulness however Harry had never felt more wanted; Dan and Emma Granger were in many ways the family he had always craved. Loving, kind, compassionate and filled with good humour, but also stern when needed and protective of their loved ones; the Dursleys' current stay in Muggle prison was a testament to the fact that Harry was very much a part of their family.

Add Hermione to that mix, her personal bond with him, their own deep friendship outside of any romantic feelings, the mutual trust and respect they held for one another, and their easy rapport and camaraderie that lent itself to creating an easy atmosphere between not only them, but Hermione's parents as well, all of that totalled to a home that Harry could truly call his own. For the first time that Harry could remember, Hogwarts wasn't the place he thought of when someone mentioned home. He thought of the narrow streets in the Oxford suburbs and the small corner chip shop that he and Hermione had frequented several times.

That was his home and he was desperately happy to have it. With a sigh the raven-haired teen turned to his girlfriend, abruptly aware that she was gazing at him with a look of deep affection and patience; blithely he wondered how long he had been staring, motionless, lost in thought. Even as he watched she turned in her seat and brought her hands up to his face, brushing her thumbs across his slightly rough cheeks, smiling tenderly at him with her head slightly tilted. Harry couldn't help but smile back warmly and after a second he felt her tug softly on his face to bring him down into a soft chaste kiss filled with feeling.

"What's going on in that head of yours love?"

It was only then that he realized he hadn't answered her earlier, smiling more broadly his arms came up and slipped around her waist, pulling her into his lap for a more comfortable embrace.

"I was thinking of home, and no, I've not heard from the Weasleys. I hope they're all okay; it occurred to me that they're probably all still a bit shell-shocked by the loss of their two youngest siblings and children."

Her frown of understanding made it clear that she had been thinking along the same lines; when next she spoke it was with a hesitancy and tenderness that made his heart swell with pride for her.

"Could we have done anything differently? To make it easier on them? To cause them less pain?"

Harry had thought about that very question more times than he could rightly say. often he had caught himself falling into the familiar patterns of self-recrimination and guilt that had wracked him in the past, especially to do with Ginny. Part of him had always wondered if, had he gotten to the chamber earlier, he could have saved more of Ginny's sanity. Eventually though he had to pull himself out of those thoughts; they helped no one and he couldn't change anything.

He felt Hermione press her cheek against his chest, snuggling down into his lap with her arms loosely around his neck and waist. To his dismay he felt her begin to shudder against him, the telling signs of sorrow coming on; she was remembering the World Cup. With a series of smooth unhurried motions he wrapped Hermione up in his arms and, lifting her, brought her to the bed whereupon he sat back against the headboard with her nestled in his lap and against his chest, crying softly into his shirt as he did his best to comfort her.

On occasion she would remember that night, would remember the light leaving Ron's eyes, the horrible amounts of blood and gore, the indifferent tone of dismissal from the character styled as Voldemort's lieutenant. Initially Harry had felt a touch of jealousy; it was a stupid feeling, but he couldn't help but be annoyed that Ron could still make Hermione cry even from the grave. But as time went on Harry lost that spike of irrational annoyance and simply fell into the familiar role of comforting Hermione, holding her close, keeping her warm, safe, and loved. She wasn't crying because of what Ron did, but because Ron would never do anything again; he was one of her first-ever friends, and now he was gone. That wound in her heart was still gaping and raw, and even through the latent bond Harry felt her pain in roiling waves.

After a few minutes he heard Hermione trying to speak. Leaning back so that she could raise her head to look at him she asked softly, clearly trying to hold back another wave of tears. "Join with me Harry, I need you, please, help me get through this. I don't want to feel the pain anymore."

Laying down on the bed to be more comfortable Harry reached out as ever and the usual feeling of unity flowed around him as their minds linked together. Then as was becoming familiar to them, they lost all sense of 'me'; for several hours, it was only 'us'.

He could do this for her, take some of her pain. It was the least he could do for the love of his heart.

-:-

As February rolled into March, and March into April, then into May, Harry and Hermione became more and more concerned about Fleur. There had been anecdotal reports that Fleur had nearly leapt from one of the seventh floor windows. The implication was obvious and they hadn't seen her since. Hermione often had to drag Harry out of his guilty moods where he blamed himself for what was happening to her. Hermione rightly pointed out that it really was no one's fault that this had happened, and if he thought about it the only reason for him to be guilty of having had anything to do with it was how wonderful he was, which was really no reason at all.

Nevertheless the pair were worried; several times they had tried sending her notes, gently knocking on her door, doing so more insistently, even going so far as to have Dobby personally take her a note. But she ignored them; Dobby's report of 'Missy Fleur is being very sad Mr Harry Potter Sir', was not comforting. The frustrating thing was that they really had no time to spare; with Harry still stubbornly taking all the classes and tests offered to them the pair were hard-pressed to be learning what skills he needed for the third task alongside all the school work and projects, not to mention remembering to take time aside just for them.

That had been one of the stipulations Hermione made when Harry decided to take all his classes, that they set aside an hour each day just to spend time together. Some days were easier to manage than others but they hadn't missed one yet. Neither of them accepted their time in the morning when they ran as that hour; it was implied that the time would be spent relaxing and conversing. Although sweating and panting were still sometimes involved.

Early in May the three surviving champions were called out to the Quidditch pitch for the details of the final task.

-:-

As Harry walked towards the pitch he felt his spirits lift; for the first time in months he saw the magnificent curtain of silvery blond hair that represented his Veela friend. Calling from a distance Harry greeted her. What met his eyes was even more worrying than the cold shoulder she had been giving him and Hermione. Fleur's eyes were red and puffy; her shoulders were sagging as if she couldn't hold the weight of her usual pride and self-control. As he got closer she turned and gave him a somewhat limp hug, words spilling from her lips in a casual greeting that felt hollow and empty to Harry, and her eyes had a glazed look to them that Harry couldn't explain.

In all honesty she looked broken.

Harry wasn't given time to ruminate further as Ludo came out and promptly started explaining the second task, Crouch at his side. Due to the rules of the tournament they had all been given scores for their performance in the second task, but it felt like a mockery of what had happened. Harry barely cared that he would be entering the maze first, followed by Fleur then Krum. He wanted to talk to Fleur more but she brushed him off as he turned to speak to her when the officials let them go for the night. It did nothing to allay his worries.

Back in his room with Hermione he explained what had happened, Hermione looked thoughtful and sad but with no obvious epiphany coming they decided to turn in for the night, curling up together and wondering how the following months would progress.

-:-

Training for the third task was actually quite fun; Hermione decided, and Harry agreed, that his best method for staying safe was simply going to be obliterating everything in his way by using a mixture of his own sorcery and Hermione's spell chains that she assured him would first break down magically resistant hides on dangerous creatures before incapacitating them. After reviewing the chains himself he considered that 'put down' might be more accurate than 'incapacitate' but he wasn't complaining. Hagrid's beasts were nothing to trifle with.

They trained him for every eventuality; creature-specific repelling charms such as the patronus and _Riddikulus_, dispelling charms, revealing charms, high-powered shields that could deflect even the strongest of physical blows when held on the right angle. They delved into defence texts and Hermione accumulated huge spell lists that Harry dutifully memorized and practised. Nearing the middle of June Harry had extended his repertoire by a bit over fifty spells. While most of them were for countering specific threats a few were also utility; the point me charm, the magical compass, the huntsman's charm which, when cast, caused all living things with roughly equivalent or greater body mass to the caster to gain a golden outline that could be seen through solid objects, and other interesting charms to help him avoid being surprised in the maze.

He hoped they would give him an edge over whatever was waiting for him. Many of the tomes the pair delved into were old forgotten manuscripts in the depths of the library, and many of the spells would be forgotten to most. One particular favourite of Harry's was the inversion charm; anything hit with the charm saw the world as if it were mirrored, their natural actions causing the opposite of what they intended making it nigh impossible for them to fight effectively. The spell was frowned on as there were several instances throughout history of people using it to influence the outcomes of popular sporting events such as the Quidditch World Cup and the odd Olympic Games. It was far more potent than the confundus charm for such a task but it was blatantly obvious as the affected would perform actions in the opposite direction to what they intended. It was great for parties though. Harry thought it would be particularly useful if he came up against anything he couldn't fight toe-to-toe. Chances were he could just go straight past it while the creature meandered off in a different direction.

Another personal favourite was the twig-snapping jinx; not particularly useful in this situation but it could be used to create the sound of a snapping twig where directed, obviously useful for stealth. All in all, despite all the other learning going on Harry was more than happy to be training additionally for the task.

-:-

Hermione for her part was enjoying the training immensely, much as she did all other learning, but for the additional reason that it gave her and Harry plenty of one-on-one learning time where they could simply enjoy being in each other's presence as they studied and practised. While Harry was practising the next jinx, charm or curse Hermione would be doing her homework or researching new spells.

Much to their shared annoyance there were scant few tomes on sorcery; it seemed that, as sorcery was such a diverse topic, few people had tried to quantify some of the useful sorcels they had stumbled across for the use of others. Regardless, Harry had vastly improved his arsenal and the two had spent many hours bonding over the experience. One particularly hilarious incident had involved Harry accidentally cursing his own hands and feet backwards; embarrassed, he had refused to go to the hospital wing and had stubbornly, and somewhat awkwardly, looked through the book for the counter-curse. Eventually he had gotten so frustrated that he had tried to slam the book shut, but unable to grip it properly had given up.

Hermione had, after quieting her laughter, come over and sat on his lap; after urging him to meld their minds she had let him control her body to turn the pages and search for the counter curse with her hands and eyes. When he found it she had him actually cast the counter curse on his own body using her own hands and wand. The kiss they had shared when he was reunited with his own, restored body had been a memorable one for both of them.

Despite the new spells, the physical training, his personal talent with sorcery and his massive magical reserves, Hermione knew that he still felt vulnerable, that he felt he was going into this without his wand, or glasses. She hadn't seen what had happened to Cedric, but Harry had. He hadn't let her see the memory yet; perhaps he would when this was all over. To her the answer was plain as day; he would come home to her, in one piece, because he loved her. It was irrational, and completely against everything she knew and trusted, aside from Harry himself. He would move heaven and earth for her, and she knew that all she had to do was ask and he would come back to their bed that night.

That would have to wait for the day in question, though; for the time being she had to keep him on an even keel. Keep him with her, happy and well. Until the third task, they only had to endure.

-:-

The weekend before the third task was set aside for the duelling tournament's resolution that many of the students had been waiting for since the round-robin back before Christmas. The two-day affair would incorporate several bouts whittling down the contestants until only two remained for the final on Sunday night. Most of Saturday however was devoted to the doubles tournament which would be significantly longer to complete due to the greatly increased number of bouts. It was tinged with sadness though; Cedric's pair had been the favourite to win the seventh year event, that wouldn't happen now.

For the fourth years the result was almost certain; the entire school knew about Harry's incredible power after seeing him obliterate the underwater trench in the second task, and his skill with sorcels was near-legendary in the school due to Lavender and Parvati's gossip circle. They had already gone up against the Ravenclaws in the previous session; the early morning bouts, set for eight o'clock, were Gryffindor versus Slytherin and Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff.

Harry and Hermione, being the youngest competitors for their house, were in the first bout on the Gryffindor/Slytherin mat; as they did their pre-duel bonding moment that gave them so much better communication they were dimly aware of Draco shooting Harry murderous looks and Daphne rolling her eyes at the ponce.

When the pair separated it was with a strong link between them, deeper than their usual passive connection, but not so deep that they might begin to start exchanging the spells in their chains. With their synchronous ascent to the podium and simultaneous bow Daphne actually looked like she was going to be a little sick. Harry didn't blame her; they weren't going to pull any punches.

Flitwick scurried forward and gave them a brief rundown of the rules as usual; Harry was dimly aware of Draco shooting Harry an annoyed look that was tinged with something that looked like malice. Then the diminutive professor was counting down from five, Harry felt his muscles tense up, then release into a relaxed loose state that was perfect for the range of movement he might need to dodge their attacks.

When Harry and Hermione performed their duels in the round-robin they were talented certainly, but the talent was raw, with no polish, and their knowledge of sorcery was far less complete then. The comparison between Harry and Fleur was brought to mind; Harry, the newbie dueller with plenty of talent, all raw power and speed, and Fleur the experienced fighter with years of practise under her belt, efficiency and measured balance. The pair weren't quite at that point yet but they were getting there, especially when they worked together.

When Flitwick finally said 'Duel' and sprang backwards out of the fight so quickly it looked like he had apparated, all four dueller's sprang into action, just as across the room the Ravenclaws and the 'Puffs did the same. Draco immediately went on the offensive, no surprises there. Harry was at first amused at the amount of power Draco was putting into his spells; they were clearly straining him quickly and Harry wondered if he wanted to end the entire bout on this first flurry.

The first salvo was easy enough to dodge; it was more or less a line of sorcels as Draco poured everything he had into a frontal barrage. Daphne was slightly more difficult to deal with; using some of her Slytherin guile, she took advantage of her partner's aggression to simultaneously begin weaving defensive barriers and firing off slashes to either side of the Gryffindor pair to try and hedge them into the area of Draco's attacks. All credit to them, they tried.

The issue was that Harry wasn't the slightest bit concerned with Draco's attack and caught the lot on his duellist's shield before snapping off a pair of his blasting sorcels, one to either side of the Slytherins in a now-favourite manoeuvre of his. Daphne had been weaving sorcery shields only and the spray of debris went straight through them actually knocking them into a stumble.

Hermione merely deflected Draco's sorcels with a curved sheet of ice she conjured out of the air with hexwork; the slope of the sheet was such that instead of smashing the ice, the sorcels just glanced off it and shot into the duelling wards surrounding the arena. Her wand then flicked out in a complex series of motions that Harry recognised, it was their shield breaker sorcery chain.

A bewildering array of jabs and shield cracker sorcels, an imagined battering ram that was surprisingly effective blasted out from her wand like bolts of invisible lightning and with an audible crunch Daphne's shield disintegrated. That was all the opening Harry needed; with incredible speed he capitalized on the weakness while the pair were still stumbling and with a series of sharp efficient movements knocked their legs out from under them and knocking them out with jabs to their heads on the way down.

Abruptly the silencing ward came down and Harry heard the cheers of the surrounding Gryffindors as he and Hermione thoroughly trounced the Slytherin pair. When they were revived Draco didn't even glance at them, he just stormed down into the Slytherin spectators. Daphne on the other had actually came up to the pair and shook Harry's hand before hugging Hermione.

"You too are terrifying when you're like that, I don't think there was even a pause between my shield going down and your attack Harry. Have you two practised that tactic?"

Harry nodded, a wry grin on his face. "Defending and attacking simultaneously is a pretty common tactic in this tournament, not a bad one by any stretch, but we have a simple way of dealing with it."

They all nodded to each other again before leaving the arena; somewhere in the crowd Harry was sure he saw the flash of a camera but couldn't pinpoint the location. His thoughts ran a bit chill at what Rita Skeeter would cook up this time.

-:-

The next two bouts were something similar. After Draco had composed himself again they got back into the ring; now even more incensed Draco focussed specifically on Hermione trying to batter her down as Daphne summoned about every shield she could think of; rubble walls, sorcery barriers, even sheets of ice similar to Hermione's. It wasn't enough.

Hermione caught Harry's intention and grinned as she threw up a strong sorcel barrier to protect against Draco's attack as Harry moved his wand in a series of looping movements that were somewhat baffling to the crowd when they appeared to do nothing. Then, he reached his hand forward, palm up and fingers extended and seemed to grab a hold of something, and pulled.

Similar to what happened in the chasm in the lake Harry had thrown 'ropes' of magic, long tethers of energy linked to his left hand, that buried deep into Daphne's defences; when he pulled, the whole lot came tumbling down, wrenched out of position by the force of Harry's magic. Sorcery shields splintered, hastily-erected walls of rubble disintegrated and the sheets of ice shattered dramatically.

Hermione, who had been craftily assembling her attack behind her barrier, then suddenly retaliated against Draco. A hail of the small, nearly invisible pellets they had been working with, blasted out from behind her shield with hurricane-like speeds. Harry watched as Draco doubled over before pitching backwards as one smacked him in the face. He would ask Hermione what core she had used for the pellets later; they usually didn't make such an impact.

After that it was just Daphne versus Harry and Hermione. Abruptly without defence when her hastily erected defences crumbled the Slytherin witch finally went on the offensive, and Harry wondered why she hadn't from the start. She was _much_ stronger than Draco; her sorcels were quick and had slightly blurry tracer lines in the air where the heat of each sorcel had created a heat wave.

Harry decided to let her have her head and put his mind towards dodging her attacks and blocking those that couldn't be dodged, while Hermione took a more offensive route and actively parried many of her Sorcels, throwing her own back at the younger witch with a determined look in her eyes. The two witches exchanged sorcels for a moment before Harry decided to step in and with a flick of his wand tugged her feet out from under her with a kinetic sorcel. So focused on Hermione had Daphne been that she didn't notice Harry flanking her and getting around her intermittent shields.

With the bout, and the set, over Harry and Hermione thanked Daphne and prodded Draco awake before grudgingly thanking him for the duel. It was an old custom and even Draco reciprocated, although he looked like he had swallowed stink sap to do so.

-:-

There were thirty-two bouts in the first elimination round of the open-grade tournament, sixteen in the second, then eight, then four, then two, then the final. Fortunately Harry and Hermione were seeded on opposite ends of the 'tree' so they wouldn't have to duel each other unless both got to the final. Hermione quietly believed that would be a miracle on her part as many of the seventh years were simply more powerful than she was and could easily overwhelm her shields. As it was she got to the quarter-final before she was finally defeated by a Durmstrang student who took great pleasure in battering her with sorcels. Harry promised her through their link that he would give her a massage later to help ease her aching joints and muscles.

Harry, almost predictably, got to the final without much fuss. He and Fleur had a somewhat disappointing duel in the quarter-final; the fight seemed to have gone out of her completely and despite her usual skill there was no drive to win; Harry beat her in just under a minute. The semi-final was something of a disappointment as well; apparently the sixth-year Hufflepuff was too terrified of Harry to actually make any decent attacks or counters and he won that fight even quicker than his bout with Fleur.

The final however, was a bit of a surprise; of all people, Victor Krum reached the final and was Harry's opponent for the tournament. They bowed to one another, Harry noting with faint surprise a faint tattoo beneath the Durmstrang boy's collar as the stocky Bulgarian seeker bowed. Harry's mind was racing, what did he know about the Bulgarian seeker? He was typically duck footed on the ground but if he had got to this point that must either be a front or he had amazing strength in his shield charms. He was a strong caster; that much was certain as he was able to blind a dragon with a single casting despite its magic-resistant body; additionally he was deadly accurate. Accuracy and strength as well as timing and the potential for dodging, what was the weakness here? Harry was likely to be stronger than him, there were few who could best Harry in raw power.

He didn't know enough to compare their skill levels but he was sure he was at least on par with the stocky Durmstrang student. He had one thing going for him that Victor didn't though; the reflexes and instincts of someone who had avoided danger all their life. As Flitwick was counting down the duel Harry let his thoughts go and just focussed on the magic at his core, letting it swell up and encompass all that he was. Just as Flitwick finished the count Harry felt his magic brimming along the surface of his skin; it was a technique that he didn't use often because it drained him more quickly than normal, but he could cover his entire body in a skin of free magic that would absorb sorceries, although physical impacts were still dangerous and he would continue to block and avoid attacks from his opponent as long as possible. But when the time came, he would allow Victor to fire a barrage at him, thinking him beaten, the sorcels would be absorbed by the magical field and he would be able to retaliate in kind.

The duel started slowly, both contestants probing each other's defences, throwing sorcels to the sides to see how jumpy the other was, smashing high powered shots against the other's shields to test them. Harry had a grim cast to his face as the duel began to get more serious; this was going to be a challenge.

-:-

Hermione was nervous; Victor had three years on Harry, in a school of the most powerful sorcerers in Europe. At the end of the day, despite Harry's talent and power he was still inexperienced, and even though she knew that this duel didn't mean much she still wanted Harry to win, to prove to the students who still doubted him that he was worthy of their respect. She wanted things to be easier for him; she was well aware of how they treated Harry both to his face and behind his back.

This duel, this tournament could be what did this for him, not to mention it would give him a huge boost of self-confidence which he desperately needed, especially after Cedric's death. She watched anxiously as the duel began to heat up, both sorcerers exchanging heated flurries of sorcels. For a while she let herself become entranced by the duel; it was truly amazing to watch and it reminded her once again that while she was a competent duellist and she had a wealth of knowledge at her disposal, she still had nothing on Harry.

One of the things she noticed with a touch of pride was that Harry wasn't even bothering to block Krum's sorcels; he was just parrying them outright, blasting them aside with heavy volleys of his own magic. It was an interesting tactic, it meant that he wasn't wasting energy maintaining a duellist's shield, whereas Krum, despite his own prodigal power, had to not only block Harry's sorcery, but also try and weave his shots in and around Harry's more powerful sorcels. The sheer amount of offense that Harry was putting forth filled the air between the wizards with a hail of sorcery that Krum could not cast directly into; he just wasn't strong enough to punch through Harry's onslaught.

Hermione realized a flaw in Harry's otherwise excellent strategy; he was waning fast. Harry had engaged in several duels that day and two others the day before; he was tired, and he was drained. She could see the beads of sweat on his face, but also a strange look of concentration in his eyes that was hinting at something being afoot that she couldn't put her finger on…wait, what was that on his skin?

She looked closer and gasped slightly before stifling it; Harry had a second skin of free magic about him. She couldn't even imagine the power drain that had to be on him, but not only was it allowing him to stay constantly on the offensive, it would also be a nasty shock for Victor when the Bulgarian finally got a chance to attack Harry back.

Suddenly Harry's strategy came into sharper focus and she couldn't hide the broad, beaming grin that formed on her face as Harry appeared to become fatigued, his assault slowing and eventually petering out. As he 'stumbled' away from the Bulgarian who was now wearing a triumphant grin Hermione saw the typical smile breach on Harry's face, the one she saw when he had his opponent right where he wanted them; for a moment she was able to glance into that part of Harry's soul that was a warrior born.

-:-

Harry felt the magic around him twitch and then recoil heavily as Victor's assault battered home, to no avail. The Bulgarian champion had struck out with all his might, trying to end the duel now that Harry was showing 'weakness'; when the barrage ceased Harry spun and cast the last sorcel he would need for this duel.

All around him the free magic in the air, from his body, and residual energy from the bout, formed in a colossal ball of power in front of his wand. Pointing the tip towards Victor he thrust forward, straining against the energies that were creating a physical resistance. The muscles on his arm stood out like cords in that second that he pushed against his magic. Then suddenly, the pressure snapped.

Victor could sense the end of the duel apparently, his dumbfounded expression at Harry ignoring his sorcery quickly turned to one of fear as his still-raised dueller's shield was battered with a constant beam of sorcery. To Harry he looked like he was standing in front of a fire hose with only a trashcan lid for protection. Harry forced more energy into the beam as Victor's shield began to crack under the strain; they were both powerful wizards and Harry was now forcing a raw confrontation of power.

The beam flared into the visible spectrum as fire began whipping along its length at the speed of the magic as it left Harry's wand; to all appearances it looked as though a beam of flame was exiting Harry's wand, powering across the floor of the duelling arena and smashing into Victor's cracking shield, flames and sparks flying in all directions as the air ignited creating a smell of ozone. Victor was soon the sole rock standing in the middle of the raging flood, flames licking past him on all sides and splashing against the wards behind him which were beginning to glow. A thunderous sound reverberated around the arena as the wards converted the magical energy into sound to dissipate some of the force.

Behind that raging inferno, desperately feeding energy into his shield stood a Bulgarian champion whom Harry wanted badly to defeat.

-:-

Behind that raging inferno was a very pissed off Bulgarian. No one would be able to hear it but Victor Krum was swearing his head off in his native tongue as Potter's onslaught of energy threatened to smash him against the wards like so much putty. He knew it would hurt, but it wouldn't be fatal. No, the real pain would be to his pride, overwhelmed and beaten by a fourteen year old child. His reputation could not take such a beating, and yet the Bulgarian seeker felt that he had little choice; Potter had dictated the duel from the start, overwhelming his sorcels, and dictating the pace of the engagement.

And it was entirely superfluous this beam of energy, inefficient and showy, but Victor knew that it was making a point. Potter must have been expending huge amounts of power to keep this beam going for as long as it had and the beam was not waning; even after the huge amounts of energy he had already expended in the duel he was not tiring.

Then the absurdity of what was going on struck home; he and Potter had exchanged huge numbers of sorcels in the duel that had lasted well over ten minutes, expending massive amounts of energy that was now contained within the arena's wards. The bloody Brit was siphoning the residual energy from the air of the arena and then projecting it in a solid sorcerous beam. The back blast against the wards behind Victor would only serve to feed more energy into the spell as Harry siphoned off the energy made by the air combusting under the heat.

Potter could keep this beam going literally forever as he had no lack of energy within the wards; they would continually produce air to keep the duellists from passing out even under extreme conditions and that was just providing more fuel for the proverbial fire. It was only a matter of time until Potter overwhelmed his rapidly fading reserves and blasted him back against the wards.

A quitter, however, was one thing that Victor Krum was not, as evidenced by his performance in the World Cup; even when things were going badly he would end them on his terms. To his disbelief, and even as he made this resolution, the pressure of the beam somehow increased. Victor realized with a start that Harry was now in full control of the beam and was focusing the radius of the attack to create more magical pressure on his shield rather than allowing the beam to dissipate against the wards. While this would lessen the efficiency of the beam itself and require Harry to draw on his own reserves, it also became far more taxing for Victor.

Grunting in effort the Bulgarian held his ground, pressing his right hand against the back of his left, his palms splayed against the wave of magic, his wand trapped between them. Frustratingly he felt his boot slip on the arena floor. He was being pushed backwards. The friction of his seventy-kilo frame and his Durmstrang-issue school boots was not enough to resist the sheer physical force of the beam. Victor Krum knew at that point that this duel was over; his glowing duellist's shield had visible imperfections where Potter's onslaught was breaking through.

Enraged, Krum forced his magic into one last ditch effort to hold on before a thunderous crack echoed around the arena and the Durmstrang champion was blasted off his feet, tumbling through the air buffeted by sorcerous energy that carried him hard up against the wards. His head sharply impacted the magical barrier and he knew no more.

-:-

Harry heard the ear splitting sound of Krum's shield shattering under the onslaught and immediately dropped the sorcery, the beam flicking out of existence as if it were never there; only the pervading smell of ozone and the visibly glowing wards were any testament to what had happened. Personally, Harry was just glad Dumbledore himself had cast the protections around the arena, else things might have been a bit more touch and go; he would have hated to actually hurt anyone.

As he felt the magic in his body recede back into his core he reached out around him with it and absorbed as much of the residual energy still floating around that he could. He had only mastered the trick the week before under Moody's tutelage; apparently the ex-auror believed that Harry was both mature and deserving enough to be shown the advanced technique. Finally as the young wizard felt the wards go down he relaxed his pose, right hand outstretched with his wand pointed forward and his left hand held high above it in a clawed shape that suggested the intense concentration he had held to keep the beam in a cohesive shape.

Then all of a sudden he was smothered in brown hair as Hermione nigh on tackled him in her happiness. Oh that's right, he won.

-:-

AN2: And… this didn't answer as much as I thought it would, fortunately all, or at least most, of the questions you're all probably asking will be answered in subsequent chapters.

AN3: A point I wanted to very briefly raise, mostly because a lot of people still send me reviews about it, this story will remain _firmly_ H/Hr, not H/Hr/FD, H/FD or even Hr/FD. This is a Harmony ship, it's staying that way.

AN4: Review responses

Ceo55: Thank you! Always a pleasure to write for such interested viewers

NathanHale: I know the action scenes are fairly quick, but I find that oversaturating scenes of action with detail they lose their urgency while people try to read through all the words. A quick action scene that has plenty of punch makes people read through quickly, realize it's over and actually go read through it again to make sure they got everything, actually ends up having more impact than long winded action scenes that most readers will just skim over and get to the resolution, trust me, I know, I read too.

Brain1972: Oh I have explanations, but I like to keep that part of the plot close to my chest, I'll give my readers clues along the way, you've already had a couple in fact, but the full reveal won't happen in this particular fic, one of the later ones in the series certainly, I have to keep you interested somehow right?

Shukokage: Oh don't worry, Fleur's torment will earn soon.

God of all: Thank you!

Litfreak: Like they mentioned earlier, he's Harry F***ing Potter

Anotherboarduser: I like it when people say my writing is exciting, means I achieved something right? ^.^

Vegasman: It might not have come across very clearly, but I'm no big fan of Cedric Diggory, his main traits mentioned in the Goblet of Fire are 'Attractive' and 'A typical Hufflepuff' (I'm paraphrasing), essentially his head is full of cotton wool.

Slytherin's Pimp: The twins are safe no worries there. As for horribly maiming Draco… I'll see what I can do.

DarkHeart: Everyone thinks Cedric dying is surprising, which is funny considering which book I'm rewriting, Dumbledore's safeguards haven't worked so far? What makes you think they're working now?

Lightskiller: It wasn't much of a cliffhanger, not nearly as much of a cliffhanger as the next chapter is going to be.

DarkLelouch: Here's that chapter you were waiting for, I think we've already discussed your review via PM anyway.

Beyondthesea: Oh look, water dementors, lovely.

Alright folks, that's another one done, thanks for reading and other shenanigans as usual we're into the last three chapters now, in the next chapter: The Traitor, will cover the run up to and exploration of the Maze. Come again soon!

LGreymark


	17. The Traitor

AN: Disclaimer as per usual, JKR has it all

AN2: This is the third to last chapter, things are about to get very messy, very quickly.

-:-

Chapter Sixteen: The Traitor

Ten months. That was the time Hermione had been with Harry; in ten months they had started their relationship, grown to love each other, formed a bond of the soul and mind, and shared their most intimate moments together. Ten months ago she had promised herself that she would stick with him through everything. Somehow she knew that that resolution would be tested today.

They were laid out on Harry's bed in his room; she wasn't sure if he was awake, but their position reminded her of those early days back at Oxford, Harry was spooned behind her and she could feel his hard length pressing between the cleft of her arse. His arms were around her waist pulling her against his chest and legs and above all she could feel his lips on the back of her neck.

Hermione wasn't immune to Harry; she could feel the slickness between her thighs, she could feel her pulse racing, and her breath was coming in quick bursts. She loved him, she loved what he did to her, it made her feel beautiful, desired, sexy, loved and he was so gentle about it, never arrogant about how he could make her feel, or boastful. He never spoke up to anyone else about what they did.

She couldn't ask for a more dedicated or careful lover; he was her Harry and she loved him dearly. It wasn't just the physical intimacy either; he knew who she was better than she knew herself, and he would know, probably better than anyone else ever would. He knew how to care for her, he knew what to do when she was distressed, and he knew how to comfort her when she was in pain. He knew what she liked for breakfast; he knew what she liked to read, although that one was pretty easy.

For ten months, Harry had striven to be the best boyfriend he could be for her. She fondly remembered the days back in Oxford before the term had started with Harry being somewhat nervous and shy to start with, his thoughts reading as plain as day on his face and his emotions on his sleeve. So much of that had changed.

She could still read him of course; she knew him better than he knew himself. She could see his tells, his indicators as to what mood he was in, what he was thinking, how he felt about a topic before he even opened his mouth, and that was ignoring the bond they shared. Everyone else though, the other students, the teachers, even Dan and Emma, had real trouble these days seeing what was behind his venom-green eyes.

One day Hermione's mum had commented that after Ron's death Harry had shrunk within himself, drawing back the arms of open communication with the world that he had so tentatively extended over the years. She and Dan were both concerned and unconcerned; concerned because Harry was, after all, still a new person in their life. And they wanted to know him much better than he was letting on for the most part.

But also unconcerned because Hermione and Harry both reassured them that he would be more open and easy to talk to once the year had ended and the Tournament wasn't hanging over his head. His reticence was mostly a self-defence mechanism. He was, as Hermione liked to say, in his 'Save the world mood', and he had been all year.

She really worried that he wouldn't come back from this; Cedric had been slaughtered on the school grounds far too easily. It wasn't even a contest; the poor boy just died. The entire Merfolk village had been slaughtered; and the seven of them, Krum and his brother, Fleur and her sister, Cho, Harry and herself, had barely made it out of that chasm alive. If Harry's magic hadn't reached out and performed the real life version of a deus ex machina they would all be dead.

Carefully Hermione rolled over in Harry's arms and cradled his head against her neck, rubbing her hand through his hair and watching his face carefully for the tell-tale tightening around his eyes as he awoke. She loved him, and would stay with him through everything and anything that he went through. Today she would prove that devotion to him, they would survive this.

They had to.

-:-

The Great Hall was packed, everyone had their eyes peeled for the three champions and, surprisingly enough, Harry looked the most awake. Fleur appeared like she was battling some kind of illness and Victor appeared as glazed and out of sorts as ever. The fact that he wouldn't meet anyone's eyes when he talked set Harry's nerves on edge.

Breakfast was surprisingly subdued; people were chatting and gossiping as usual, but it had the muted hum of solemnity that came with the reminder of Cedric's death. Harry spared a moment to look at Dumbledore at the head table and when their eyes locked he felt like someone had smothered him in icy water. Albus looked worried.

Harry reflected for a moment on his anger at the school's headmaster earlier in the year, and Hermione's righteous rage. She couldn't look at the older man to this day but somewhere in him Harry had reached a sort of middle ground; he knew Dumbledore had his reasons for dumping Harry at the Dursleys and for the moment, that was enough. Dumbledore was still the only wizard Voldemort ever feared, and Harry figured it was better to have him on side than not.

Harry still deeply believed that he was lucky; his life could have turned out much worse than it had. There had been a great number of crossroads, and on each he had, fortunately, chosen the path that had brought him closer to happiness. He believed equally that forgiving Dumbledore was the best course of action; holding the grudge would get him nowhere, no matter how much Dumbledore deserved a reckoning. Besides, he was sure Hermione could carry that torch fine on her own.

Near the end of breakfast Professor McGonagall came along the Gryffindor table and told both Harry and Fleur that their families had come to see them and were waiting for them in the antechamber behind the head table, before bustling off to tell the same to Victor. Fleur smoothly stood from her seat and near-glided to the room in question with her usual grace whilst Harry and Hermione shared a bemused look, surely they hadn't…?

When the pair of them entered the antechamber a minute later it was to the excited and frantic hug of Emma Granger who swept both of them up into her arms as Dan came and placed a hand on her shoulder. Hermione was all questions, babbling away wondering how Dumbledore had gotten them in past the Muggle-repelling wards. How had they travelled here? And how were they?

For his part Harry was simply deliriously happy and returned Emma's embrace as firmly and warmly as he could, revelling in the fact that he had a mother figure who genuinely loved him and was here to support him in the tournament. As he looked past Emma and saw Dan he felt a surge of happiness and wonder well up within him at the look of pride on Dan's face. Here was a man, who was not only the father of his love but the man who was comfortable being his proxy parent. Actually expressing pride in the boy he had taken to be his own son.

They chatted with each other with the same easy rapport that they had developed back in their Oxford home, and it wasn't long until an excited Gabrielle barrelled into Harry's legs and he gave her a grin and a short hug too. Seconds later Fleur, tears streaming down her face, had launched herself into the large group hug.

Harry felt Dan and Emma gently retreat to allow the four friends the chance to reconnect, again. Harry and Hermione had been sure to send regular updates home as to Fleur's friendship with them and they knew both their parents had been dismayed to hear that Fleur had been so inconsistent and unsure of herself, constantly shifting between reclusiveness and open affection for the two younger teens.

While her behaviour was slightly baffling, Harry and Hermione were just happy to have Fleur back into their circle. Harry didn't stop to really think about it but later, when he and Hermione were discussing the aftermath of the events to come, they would agree that Fleur's tears were less of happiness and more of grief and apology. At the time they had ignored it, but it made more sense to them in post.

They would always regret not realizing it sooner.

-:-

The day progressed rapidly with Hermione being granted the day off her classes. As it was a Friday and they didn't have DADA this wasn't an issue; Hermione was already well read through the required source material for the lessons their classes were covering that day. The two families (Granger/Potter and Delacour) decided to meet up just before dinner but otherwise spend the day apart so as to spend more time with their respective children.

Privately Harry was thankful; he had noticed the sour looks Apolline had been giving Hermione and while he knew his love was well aware of the attention he was proud of her pointed ignorance of it. One topic that did come up, much to Harry's concern, was Harry's safety in the up and coming task. No one was under any illusions that the task would go off without a hitch; something was bound to happen but they had no idea what.

-:-

Dan felt an emotion that he never thought he would feel for anyone aside from Hermione and Emma; it was pride. Here was Harry, his adopted son, no older than the tender age of fourteen, already a duelling champion in his own right, a competitor in a tournament that, while he had no business being in, was actually leading slightly on points. And he had managed to not only navigate the minefield of issues the year had thrown at him and keep Hermione's heart, but he had also grown as a human being.

Gone was the timid and world-weary boy from the previous summer; what stood in his place was a confident and pragmatic young man with an iron resolve and a conviction of spirit the older man rarely saw in other adults, let alone teenagers. Despite the botched drugging, the near drowning, the multiple attempts on his and others lives, the loss of three friends, one much closer than the other two, and the constant pressure of not only his schoolwork, but a new family, a girlfriend, threats to his life, a duelling tournament and an international sporting event (for that is really what the Tri-Wizard tournament truly was in the wizarding world; it could be likened, Dan thought, to the Olympics), Harry had managed to become a strong and somewhat charismatic individual, and he was, without shadow of doubt, someone Dan was proud to call his son.

-:-

Emma was more concerned than her husband, and while Dan was running over all Harry's achievements Hermione's mother was agonizing over the potential dangers Harry faced. She would be lying if she said she didn't love the boy; he had grown on her like the sweetest, most caring fungus in the world. Not to mention charming and a touch handsome. She could honestly admit that she could see what Hermione saw in Harry, their weird bond aside, and the fact that Harry saw past Hermione's bookish exterior to the warm loving woman beneath was just icing on the cake

She didn't understand the bond her daughter shared with Harry; she didn't have the proper training to comprehend what was going on there. She trusted them in that it was just as wondrous as they said, but apart from that she had no idea. Thusly she had to base her understanding of their relationship from what she could see, and she was happy with what she saw.

Harry was respectful, if she had to sum up his entire demeanour around Hermione in one word that would be it. They seemed to share an easy camaraderie that meant even when they had minor arguments they both remained calm and reasonable. He clearly loved her, gentle touches here and there, constantly being the gentleman. Emma rather thought that Hermione had forgotten what it was like to open doors on her own whilst in his presence.

He was gentle, but somehow still firm with her; he didn't let her walk all over him by any means and she could tell that they had differing opinions on a variety of topics that were familiar discussion ground for them. She had no idea if this behaviour was typical of Harry or if Hermione brought it out in him.

Hermione on the other hand, had undergone several small changes. She was more relaxed; gone was the constantly tense, bustling girl. In her place was a calm, mostly collected young woman who still had that thirst for knowledge that was such a core facet of her being. Emma was shocked to see Hermione actually back down from Harry when they discussed something between themselves; it was rare for her precocious young daughter to let someone else's reasoning overrule her own.

All of this however was nothing more or less than what she had seen over the Christmas holidays. They had clearly fallen into patterns that suited them and were more at ease, despite all of the danger, than she had ever seen them.

It couldn't be escaped though; Emma was scared that, so soon after meeting him, she would lose her son tonight.

-:-

After dinner the eight of them, Delacours included, headed down towards the Quidditch pitch where Harry would enter the maze. Just before they split apart, Harry and Fleur going into the champions' tent and the other six going up into the stands, Hermione pulled Harry aside and gently pressed a small package into his hands. Raising an eyebrow at her he tore off the wrapping to find a small silver owl hanging from a black cord.

"Hermione, what's this for? It's gorgeous, but what's it for? Aren't I the one who's supposed to be giving you jewellery?"

Hermione laughed, tensely, and Harry's concern ratcheted up a notch. "It's got a charm I've been researching laced into the silver. It used to be an emerald before I transmuted it."

Harry realized she had made this herself, probably with the shaping charms they had been researching. "And what exactly does this charm do?"

He felt a stab of worry when Hermione's eyes brimmed over with tears. Unable to say more she pressed herself against him, hugging him tightly. After a few seconds she said quietly, "It should, when you put it on, let me hear your heartbeat in the back of my mind. It'll let me know when you're in danger."

Harry frowned slightly; surely he was going to be in danger the whole time he was in the maze? His frown melted away as he felt Hermione's emotions wash over him and understanding flooded his mind. She would be able to hear his thoughts through this; even if the exchange was one sided, it would become a sort of amplifier for the magic that their bond was made from.

"Why don't you have one of these too? Having your thoughts in there with me could be a real help."

Hermione smiled sadly. "If I did, the magic of the contract in the Goblet of Fire would destroy both of our magic, because with my thoughts you'd be able to cheat."

Harry rolled his eyes at the actually fairly smart, but annoyingly placed rule. Slowly he brought Hermione in for a tender kiss, Hermione's arms sliding around his shoulders and his slipping around her waist to hold her close. They stayed linked for a few moments and when they parted Harry felt the weight of the small silver owl pressing against his sternum. They looked into each other's eyes and Harry said with a soft tone, "I love you Hermione. I'll come back to you, I promise."

And with that he was gone, heading into the champions' tent and leaving an emotional Hermione to head back to the stands. Their minds stayed linked for as long as possible, but when Hermione reached the stands Harry felt the flow of emotions from her abruptly cease, despite his knowing that she could still feel his.

Through the tent flap he could see the dark opening of the maze and took a deep, shuddering breath. This was it.

-:-

Time passed slowly for Fleur when she entered the champions' tent; she saw Victor walk in seemingly hours later, and Harry further back from that still. She felt isolated, alone, disgusted with what was going to happen in the maze, disgusted with herself. There was going to be death tonight, and Fleur was terrified of the consequences.

She tried to shake herself from those thoughts, bring herself back to the mind-set she would need to actually complete the task. Spells ran through her head like wildfire; counter-charms for traps, curses to repel various dangerous creatures, cancelling and revealing spells, defensive shields and wards if she had to take a break, and the one spell she hoped she wouldn't have to use was tucked safely into the back of her mind.

When she saw Harry enter the tent and their eyes met she felt the usual reaction from her body; her heart began to race, her skin was covered in goose bumps, heat blossomed in her belly and her throat became instantly dry. She forced a wan smile onto her face to keep up the façade she had been showing all day; he smiled back. Then she felt a stab of pain as he turned away from her, staring into the darkness of the maze.

Hopefully, after tonight, she would never feel that pain again.

-:-

The stands were quiet; everyone could feel the building pressure all across the school. The silvery screens up in front of each of the stands showed split views between Harry, Fleur and Krum from just behind their shoulders. Hermione was sitting bolt upright in her seat, her parents sitting to either side of her, one of their hands held tightly in each of hers. She could feel the steady thump of Harry's heart in the back of her mind; it was a calming sound. She could feel his emotions, a mixture of nerves and the calm confidence she attributed to his 'battle state'.

He had already slipped into that mental state where anything that stood in his way was a threat, to be eliminated concisely and moved on from. She pitied any of the creatures that stood in his way tonight. She turned to see Emma looking up at the screen with words being mumbled under her breath; Hermione caught the words to the Lord's Prayer being recited over and over. To her left Dan was, surprisingly enough, reciting the Twenty-Third Psalm calmly under his breath, a careful set to his jaw. Hermione had never seen him look so weary. She decided to lend herself to the collective prayer and began whispering a private prayer of her own, her eyes raised heavenwards as she beseeched the Lord to protect Harry in whatever would come.

She hoped He was listening today.

-:-

The maze was dark. Harry was in the lead and had been sent in first, and all around him was dark. Lumos barely pushed back the encroaching blackness and Harry felt his nerves set on edge by the pervasive feelings of dread that seemed to intermittently wash over him. The words Dumbledore had spoken to him before he entered the maze were some that would stay with him for the rest of his life. "I'm sorry Harry, for everything, I just wanted you to know, in case something happened tonight."

The fact that Dumbledore himself wasn't assured of Harry's safety was something of a concern for the young teen. But he shoved those emotions to the back of his mind, cleansing himself of the conflicts and letting himself settle back into the calm state of mind he used for duelling. So far he hadn't encountered anything, just a myriad of twists and turns. The whistle had been blown twice more and Harry was aware that all three of them were in the maze now. He hoped they would find as easy a route as he had.

As he moved through the maze he realized two things. First, it wasn't looping at all; there were a myriad of dead ends and Harry had been placing small iridescent 'X's all over the place on the ground as he moved through; so far he hadn't crossed any of his paths without backtracking. The second thing that he realized was that he was being herded. He could feel a pressure at his back that often made him shy away from certain avenues, sure that they would contain something he really didn't want to deal with.

Soon, it came to a head. The path opened out into a large circular area with several exits leading from its perimeter; they were all closed off with vine like gates and another slammed shut behind him as he entered. Cautiously he did what he was sure was expected from him and walked to the centre of the circular area.

Things happened quickly from there, on all sides thin wooden spikes hurtled out of the gloom and only a quick shield charm and his own excellent reflexes saved him a painful injury. Another volley of spikes was flung out and Harry heard a caterwauling wail come up from several sides. Firing balls of light to better illuminate the area he saw several hunched figures, about the size of a house elf but covered in the same strange spikes that Harry had assumed were made from wood.

He growled in frustration as they ripped more spikes from their bodies and threw them at him in smooth rapid motions. He was hard pressed to block all of the attacks as the dozen or so creatures no longer waited for volleys but rather attacked him in an irregular fashion that was much harder to defend against. He felt his anger rising as time began slipping away whilst he frantically blocked attacks from all sides; he needed to end this, and soon.

Savagely he gestured with his wand and one of the creatures imploded upon itself; he was lucky he knew the banishment charm for this particular breed of feral goblin, as it was rather obscure and their bodies were rather resistant to sorcery. He received a nick on his shoulder for his troubles but fell into a pattern of blocking and attacking that let him clear the makeshift arena of threats in short order.

He resisted the urge to collapse to the ground and rest as he heard a sound that was alien to his ears; a low thudding that was interspersed with a harsh slithering sound. If he didn't know better he would have claimed it was a miniature dragon but the idea of the judges letting a fire-breathing creature into a maze made from hedges was almost comically absurd.

The creature that crawled over the hedge in front of him was almost as bad. Thirty feet long and possessing only two thick stumpy front legs, the rest of its body was shaped like a long snake with two protuberant wings on its head that seemed to be used to keep the monstrous appendage off the ground. The Egyptian wadjet reared back and with a mighty coughing sound spat a wad of ooze at him that Harry had to roll to avoid.

He briefly remembered Hermione talking about these creatures; their spit was gummy and would hold him in place for the creature to feed. Fortunately it seemed the creature's fangs had been removed for the task and he assumed that being hit by the ooze would remove him from contention as he would be unable to continue. Unfortunately, spitting and biting weren't the wadjet's only hunting techniques.

Harry felt a massive pressure throw itself at his mind, trying to force him to submit to a colossal alien will that had the feel of a slippery nail scratching along the surface of his brain. Harry threw everything he had at the creature; sorcery, spells, shields to box it in. It was wily though, and used the telepathic pressure on his mind to force him away from using anything that would truly hurt the beast. He was actually beginning to struggle to hold himself together as he felt the invasive presence begin to lock down his thoughts.

Then, he remembered Hermione, her face filled his vision and he fought back, using his memories of her as a shield against the titanic half-serpent to keep it at bay whilst he tried to get his mind together. Then, suddenly, everything clicked into place; he was a parselmouth. It didn't take much effort to perform the mental shift into parseltongue with the gigantic snake like creature bearing down on him and he yelled in his hissing voice, "Leave me be! We have no quarrel here!"

To his amazement the creature backed away and huddled against the wall of the arena, head still bobbing with each flap of its wings.

"Speaker? We were not aware you would be here."

Harry was surprised that knowledge that he was a parselmouth had spread as far as the Egyptian serpents; the fact that the beast spoke with the royal collective wasn't lost on him. These were noble creatures, the guardians of ancient tombs in the desert; the protectors of the ancient Pharaohs.

Thinking quickly he remembered that they were highly susceptible to flattery and gifts and decided to use that to his advantage. And so he said, "Your magnificence, I apologise for any pain I caused you just now but your threat was very real. I was hard pressed to even so much as survive your amazing strength."

The great serpent locked him with a steely gaze for a moment before turning its colossal head and preening slightly; the hissing voice almost made him laugh. "Oh Speaker you are too kind, We are but a hatchling compared to our mother who has destroyed many hunters of treasure."

Harry carefully weighed his next words wondering how to proceed. "I am sure you will grow to be a mighty defender of your ancestral lands yourself, mighty wadjet. I beg upon your mercy though, for I must advance through this maze if I am to return to my own family this night; could you allow me passage?"

The great serpent barely seemed to hear him but he was gratified when it lifted one of the gates hemming him in with its tail. Bowing respectfully and bidding farewell he dashed further into the maze, hoping he was on the right track.

-:-

Darkness was something Fleur was beginning to really hate. Veelas were creatures of fire and light and once again her heritage was causing her issues as she had to squint through the light of her Lumos to gain any headway in the darkness of the maze.

Thus far she had only encountered minor charms; a hallucinogenic mist and a combination lock puzzle that had taken far too long to get through. She was worried though; she had heard the caterwauling screams of feral goblins earlier and knew that they were vicious creatures. Inexplicably she knew that Harry was okay, but he was stressed; 'join the club' she thought bitterly.

She heard a strange humming as she went down her current route and took in a sharp breath as she rounded the corner. Sitting there in front of her was a Fenrisian wolf. It was sleeping and she was incredibly grateful for that; the humming sound was its lips flapping slightly in its sleep. The giant, silvery-grey wolf when standing would have been at least a meter taller than her at the shoulder and she could see foot-long canines poking out from behind its black lips.

Immediately she extinguished her lumos, not wanting to wake the amazingly light-sensitive beast, and carefully she inched around the creature. Her heart was in her throat thrumming madly as she blindly felt her way around the enormous wolf. They were incredibly strong and resistant to magic; she didn't want anything to do with actually fighting such a beast and would rather just get around it without issue.

Things were never that easy. As she finally got around it its tail swished in its sleep and caught Fleur in the small of her back, knocking her off her feet and into the hedge. Caught by surprise she shrieked loudly. Immediately the humming stopped and Fleur turned tail and ran; lighting her wand was pointless as it would just be able to track her more easily through the maze. But she knew she was now on a clock; the wolf was a born tracker, able to scent its quarry through meters of snow. It would now continue to hunt her until she left the maze.

Her feet thumped under her in a steady beat as she tore down the maze blindly, knowing now that she was at the mercy of the remaining puzzles in the enchanted hedgerows. If she managed, somehow, to avoid the traps and creatures, she would be fine; if not, she would be trapped between one of the hounds of Norse hell and whatever other threat she found. Cursing in French echoed around the darkened, deformed Quidditch pitch as the elegant Veela ran for her life.

-:-

Harry could hear running, and more than that, he could hear loud swearing in French. He had heard enough of Fleur's speech by now to know that whatever she had found was simply too difficult to deal with and she had decided discretion was the better part of valour. The loud snuffling sounds he could hear through the hedgerow weren't comforting either.

Since his run-in with the wadjet he had been relatively unmolested; a hinkypunk had briefly tried to lure him down a side passage in the maze but he resolutely ignored the light as he sped past. The angry, frustrated hissing of dozens of the strange creatures let him know he had made the right choice as he sped past, now running towards his goal.

It was as Harry was considering the curious lack of obstacles in his path that he heard the most incongruous sound he could have imagined. It was the braying of a goat. Cautiously he peered around the corner of the hedgerow he was rounding and the sight that caught his eye made his blood run cold. Standing three meters tall with a long curved blade nestled in each hand, bowed legs and the head of a goat was a satyr.

He briefly considered fleeing but the route hadn't branched for some time and he would be wasting a great deal of it trying to find another route around. And that wasn't a definite thing with all of the dead ends he'd been finding. No, this he would have to get past. There were five other exits from the large square area the creature was standing in the middle of and to his surprise he spotted Fleur and Victor eyeing the satyr warily from two of them; the other three were gated.

Locking eyes with the other two champions he realized that they were meant to get to this point together and take down the beast as a team, putting aside their differences before splitting up once more. He exchanged a nod with each of them and together they strode forwards, Fleur looking decidedly nervous as she occasionally glanced over her shoulder back the way she came.

The satyr turned and faced Harry, locking eyes with the young teen, and for the first time that night he felt real fear. The creature's eyes were blood red and, while pupil-less, held a cold gaze that made Harry's blood run cold. As if on cue all three champions sprang into action, firing sorcels at the beast with abandon trying to bring it down.

The sight that met them was chilling. Without taking its eyes off Harry the creature spun its blades around in a complex pattern and the sorcels glanced off them. Swearing, Harry dived to the side as it swung one of the weapons in a vertical arc into the turf where Harry had been. Whilst in mid-air, Harry flicked his wand at the ground and propelled himself higher into the air in a sort of cartwheel before landing neatly, already firing attacks at the goat demon.

Fleur and Victor hadn't been idle, and to Harry's relief he saw several sections of blood-matted fur where the sorcels had cut its flesh. The beast was enraged now though and dashed forward, both blades swinging as it sought to decapitate the frustrating prey that had eluded it so far. Harry propelled himself forward, dropping to his knees and leaning back to avoid the blades, and as he slid between the satyr's legs he slashed viciously to the side and was rewarded as, with a mighty crunch, the satyr's leg was severed at the knee.

Howling, it fell to the ground and tried to lash out at Harry, but he was already up and running out of the reach of its weapons as Fleur put a blasting sorcel into the back of its head, obliterating the creature once and for all. Harry slowed to a stop and caught his breath, just like the other two; after a second the gates rattled open.

Just as they were going to head into the new passages a titanic shape hurtled from Fleur's path and with a thunderous bark leapt at the French witch. Without thinking Harry summoned her to his side and the giant dog landed, looking rather bemused, its jaws snapping together on empty air. It turned to them and Harry shoved Fleur down as the Scandinavian wolf lashed out with a paw trying to knock her down.

Harry himself dived backwards and threw the most powerful blasting sorcel he could at the creature's muzzle. His efforts were rewarded with a yelping whine as the Fenrisian wolf's teeth shattered in its mouth. Dashing forwards Harry hauled Fleur to her feet and near threw her into her passage before slamming the gate shut behind her with a kinetic sorcel. Victor was already pelting down his own path and Harry managed to get his own gate shut behind him just as the enraged canine tried to bite his legs with the remainder of its teeth.

Harry leaned against the wall of the hedgerow and took a moment to catch his breath while the wolf paced back and forth on the other side of the sturdy gate, apparently unable to get through. He really hoped the end of the maze was close.

-:-

Hermione was beside herself. She was astonished at the creatures and traps that had been put into the maze; four class-six creatures including the Sphinx Krum had already bypassed, and a host of smaller magical beasts. The wadjet had been a real surprise and Hermione was thankful for Harry's parseltongue else she was sure that he would have been removed from contention there and then. She wondered if Harry had been given that particular creature specifically because of his ability.

Fleur's run-in with the Fenrisian wolf and the later engagement after the satyr was killed had been nerve wracking moments for Hermione, and she had nearly fainted when Harry had ducked under the decapitating blow of the satyr. Emma had actually passed out and Dan was supporting her against his chest, having switched seats with Hermione to do so and Hermione had heard several girlish screams from the assembled crowd when Harry had amputated the leg of the goat demon.

Hermione looked across the stands to where Professor McGonagall was sitting and saw her clutching a tartan handkerchief in a white knuckled shaking hand. Dumbledore was sitting stoically but she could see the tightness around his eyes even from where she was sitting in the champions' families' box. Moody was annoyingly chipper and had actually clapped when Harry had done his aerial manoeuvre. The Delacours, Gabrielle especially, were beside themselves; Fleur's run-in with the wolf had elicited screams from both Delacour women and a hushed gasp from their father.

She couldn't understand how they could let Harry go against these odds. Bagman and Crouch were both disturbingly calm; Bagman even looked like he was enjoying himself. She was a little disgusted to see the slightly glazed look in their eyes; how could they be drinking before something like this, especially as judges of the tasks. Madame Maxine and Karkaroff both looked weary but confident, Karkaroff more than Maxine.

She spotted Victor's family a bit further back, his father and mother both looked proud of his achievements in the maze so far. She didn't blame them; Krum had been performing excellently thus far. She did note that Krum's brother was absent which she felt strange considering her parents were Muggles and even they were here to support Harry in the task.

It was odd; Krum's brother, what was his name? Tyseus? He had turned up to every task so far, albeit he'd been Krum's hostage for the second task. He had been at Krum's side as he walked up the lawn when the Durmstrang students arrived; he had stayed at the school the whole year inside the castle in the guests' quarters, only going home for Christmas with Victor. Hermione wracked her mind trying to remember everything she could about Krum's family from the research she and Harry had done on the other champions; his father was a respected potioneer, and his mother was something of a socialite although skilled with charms.

She couldn't remember anything about his brother though; frowning, she sat back in her chair and shook her head at her father who was watching her with a concerned expression.

"Later dad."

She watched Harry in an absent-minded fashion as he jogged through the maze, smiling sadly as he easily overpowered a boggart that now took the form of her broken body. She remembered the time when Harry had learned the Patronus, how Remus had been so helpful keeping Harry's head together during that time, the time she should have been there for him, like she was when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin, like she was during his first year when everything was new to the somewhat timid and frightened young man who took the weight of responsibility on his tiny shoulders.

She vividly remembered the time Harry had shown her his first chocolate frog card, the one about Dumbledore. How he had been a prominent alchemist and was the defeater of Grindlewald. At first Hermione hadn't known a damn thing about Grindlewald and had researched all she could. Apparently he was still locked up in Nurmengard prison. She remembered looking over the lists of prisoners that had been through that prison. It was unique in that only Bulgarians were ever imprisoned there; no one outside of Bulgaria was ever locked up in that fortress.

She ruminated on that, the idea that Durmstrang produced so many dark magic users that they had a prison dedicated to keeping them locked up. Something clicked; in her mind she brought up the memory of the prisoner lists and their cell numbers and her blood ran cold. Gellert Grindlewald, Cell 8557. October fifth nineteen fifty seven to present day, Tyseus Krum, Cell 8556. March twenty-fourth nineteen eighty to July eighteenth nineteen ninety three.

Things began clicking into place; the timing of Harry's dream, the emaciated quality of the spectre who had tortured that poor girl from the ministry, Tyseus would have just been released from Nurmengard, the attack on the Quidditch world cup, Valmortis' collection of Harry's wand for use in that fight, Tyseus had been sitting behind him in the top box. It would make sense for the sprites to have ignored him in the previous task.

And he was now absent from everyone's view, on the date where everyone was sure something terrible was going to happen; if she needed another bad omen tomorrow, nine months ago, Valmortis had killed Ron. She clutched the sides of her seat; she couldn't get a message to Harry, he was walking into this blind, she had no idea what was going to happen, but when it did he would be blindsided, tired, and exhausted. There was even a good chance Krum was in on it. She still couldn't explain the events of the first task but she was sure she was still missing something.

She prayed Harry would be all right.

-:-

Harry was most definitely not all right. He had just been tossed to the ground by an acromantula the size of a car and it wasn't slowing down. Angrily he slashed down with his wand and to his relief the spider skittered to a halt before splitting cleanly in two down the middle. The young wizard let his head drop back to the ground as he gently probed the leg that had been stabbed by the acromantula's pincer. Grimacing he cast a spell to rid the wound of venom before gingerly getting to his feet. In hindsight, he thought maybe they should have practised some more first aid spells.

Harry turned back to what had made him lose concentration; there the cup was, sitting on its plinth, glowing merrily away. It was right there, the end was in sight, he could take this and win, leave, be done with the whole damned tournament. He was weary, though nothing overly terrible or outside the bounds of what he would expect. He limped forward; wand out and eyes gazing around he was just about to reach the cup when he heard a loud voice ring out in a thick accent.

"Step away from the cup Potter."

Turning slowly he saw Krum standing there, completely unhurt with his wand trained on Harry's chest. He flicked his wand and Harry instinctively threw up a shield but realized Victor was just gesturing him away from the cup. He replied to the Bulgarian seeker who looked more than simply angry.

"Fine, take the cup then, just do it and get it over with. I don't care who wins; I just want this to be over."

The next word that came from Krum's mouth Harry couldn't hear because his entire body was wracked with agonizing pain. It twisted up inside him like a coiled creature made from rusted razor wire that was slowly shredding his very soul. It went on for longer than Harry could tell; his entire world shrank, he couldn't think of anything but the desire for the pain to stop, anything that would just make it stop.

Then, suddenly, it did. He came back to his senses and found himself on the ground curled up in a tight ball, his leg throbbing and his head felt like he had cracked it against a stone. Looking up blearily at the Bulgarian he saw the older boy panting hard and Harry realized that Krum had just used the Cruciatus on him. Angrily Harry got to his feet, not thinking about the consequences.

"Are you insane? You'll be sent to jail! What the hell are you doing? They're probably entering the maze right now to haul you off, was the cup really worth it?"

Harry fell back to his knees, unable to stay upright any longer. He keep his eyes on Krum though as the boy stalked forwards, still flat footed as ever.

"You humiliated me Potter, you ruined my reputation. Just a stupid boy."

Harry was incredulous

"Is this about that duel? Are you mad? It was just a competition, nothing to use an Unforgiveable over."

It made no sense; Victor was a bit odd but he certainly wasn't mad. He heard a gasp and looked up to see Fleur standing there, hand over her mouth looking at the pair in horror. She had a nasty looking burn on the side of her arm but other than that she looked fine. Much to Harry's horror he saw Victor's wand moving towards Fleur and quickly shot a stunner at the boy who crumpled unceremoniously to the ground.

All of a sudden Fleur was there, helping him up asking him if he was okay; when Harry tried to speak he realized finally that his throat was raw and sore from what he assumed were his screams. He tried to answer her but nothing came out. Apparently that last ditch effort had taken what little strength his voice had left. He threw one disbelieving look at Krum before nodding to the cup. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He swallowed before trying again. Finally his voice, croaky as ever, sounded.

"Take it, I'd probably be dead if you hadn't distracted him."

Fleur shook her head. "Non, you got here first, it is yours."

He looked at her wryly before saying, "Together?"

To his relief Fleur grinned and nodded her beautiful head. "If we must then you silly boy. Come, let's end this."

Slowly they made their way forward with Fleur supporting Harry the last few meters.

"On three then?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three"

On the third count they gripped a handle each and Harry felt the familiar hook behind his navel. The cup was a portkey.

-:-

Hermione was crying, sobbing into her father's shoulder. He was gone. Harry had been tortured by that bastard Krum, and now he was gone. Dumbledore had tried to get into the maze the moment he saw Krum cast the Cruciatus but even Fawkes couldn't carry him within the maze; someone had w arded it, and strongly. Everyone was forced to watch as Fleur came and Harry shot Krum with a stunner from behind.

She had sighed in relief when they had grabbed the cup only to cry out in dismay when they had disappeared and the screens shuddered blank. They were gone. The cup was probably a portkey and they were gone. She could feel Harry's confusion and racing heart through the amplified bond for a few seconds and then that too cut out. He was too far away for even the enchantment on the necklace to help.

She had felt his pain, second-hand yes but she had still felt it as it washed across their link. She couldn't even imagine what he had been feeling during that time. It had only lasted a few minutes, but even that was nigh impossible to watch, let alone experience. She had screamed herself hoarse at the screen, railing at Krum for hurting Harry.

Finally the professors could get into the maze and they made quick work of recovering Victor's body and taking him in for questioning but it wasn't enough. Valmortis had Harry, and there was nothing Hermione could do.

-:-

They landed on a paved footpath. Harry didn't immediately see Fleur but soon realized that she was to his side a couple of meters away. Harry glanced around at the desolate landscape trying to figure out where they had ended up.

"Wands out do you think Harry?"

He was glad Fleur had suggested it despite both of them having already drawn them. He was about to answer her when he heard her gasp loudly, "Look up."

Harry cast his eyes heavenwards and immediately retched, threatening to lose his dinner as he spotted the dozens of impaled skeletons frozen in horrific contortions on the giant metal stakes. Looking ahead he saw a tall dark figure, Harry thought it was probably a man, moving towards them with a confident gait. He was twirling a silvery wand in his fingers and had the posture of someone out for a Sunday stroll.

Harry's mind was racing; they had nowhere to run, they had no way of knowing where they were, and their only hope was to stick together and to try and fight their way out of whatever was coming. As the figure approached, Harry confirmed it was a man by the thick hairs on his bared forearms. A twisted tattoo nestled just above his left wrist. It was his voice though that Harry recognized.

"Mr Potter, I did say we would meet again soon. Ah and I see you brought Miss Delacour with you. Excellent."

Harry felt his blood run chill and instinctively moved in front of Fleur, he wouldn't let another friend die. His mind was still racing, trying to find a way out, he needed more time.

"Where are we?"

Valmortis looked at Harry with what Harry could only assume was amusement, although he couldn't tell from the mask covering his face.

"We are in a charming little village called Little Hangleton; actually, to be specific we're four kilometres south of the town but no one really needs to know that. No Mr Potter, you shouldn't be asking where you are, but rather why we are here. Why don't you tell him Miss Delacour?"

Harry turned his head slightly to look at Fleur who had tears in her eyes.

"Harry… I'm sorry... I need to be free!"

He felt a surge of anger rush up within him; the growl that came from his throat was totally involuntary. His words however were perfectly measured.

"What have you done?"

Valmortis answered his question as Fleur's tears became more of a small stream on each cheek.

"She has brought you to me. Miss Delacour, if you please."

Harry turned to Fleur, questions on his lips dying as he saw the apology in her eyes

"I'm so sorry Harry. STUPEFY!"

-:-

AN3: Sixteen down, two to go. I just hope I'm alive after my house burns down from all the flames I'm about to get.

AN4: To be clear, this was planned from the beginning, similar to what happened with Ron, all of this is predetermined. There will be a resolution, just be patient with me.

AN5: Review Responses:

Ceo55: Aww shucks, don't make me blush. Thanks, as for your question, I have no idea.

NathanHale: Glad you liked it, also, yeah HHR forever!

Shukokage: Gah you're all intent on making me blash today, stop it, stop it…. Also thanks ^.^

Darkow1: The international response will be covered in the next instalment, as for Fleur's torment? It's about to end all right. The Shakespearean corpse pile won't be happening just yet, but I do feel another death coming on.

God of all: Thanks!

Vegasman: Do you think he watched it adequately enough? Somehow I think not.

Anotherboarduser: Thanks for your comments, but I suspect you've slightly less sympathy for Fleur now huh?

Inferius: Thank you for all of your wonderful comments!

Merlin2.0: Ahhhh it warms my bones to hear someone liking Sorcery. Just a note, because I don't know if I've made it clear or not, other types of spellcasting still exist and are helpful, Harry just prefers sorcery ^.^, a bit like me really…

Akasanta: Thanks! Glad to hear you like it

StycianLeo: Ah yes, that one was an awkward promise. HHr Did promise to try and help Fleur out of her bond, but if you will remember they also claimed they were both far too young to understand the magic behind it and it was a long term goal at best. Hence no research right now. Also the tournament has been weighing pretty heavily on Harmony's mind right now. Additionally… Fleur's resolution will come soon enough.

Pryde: Gah, I need more reviews like this. Thank you

Emilywoods: Right? Ah well, nothing ventured nothing gained, I always wanted the Grangers to adopt Harry, to my imagination (And to produce someone as wonderful as Hermione) they must have ben excellent parents, and they are Muggles, which is important because their values are different to those of a magical family. It does make the 'sex' awkward though

Darkheart: Thanks

Haywireeagle: Talk to my Beta, he handles that stuff.

Edmund O'Donald: o.o thanks.

The light from within: Thanks for the comments about the magic, additionally Harry is far too noble to just leave this issue behind, he feels personally responsible for many of the deaths going on and wants to do right by his fallen friends.

Dark Lelouch: Heh, It was a pretty neat piece of sorcery. Be reminded thought that the only reason harry could maintain that was because of Dumbledore's wards holding the magical energy inside the area and Harry could continue to recycle it.

Joda-Eragonsson: Au contrare, I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear enough but Fleur has been actively avoiding Harmony several times throughout the year. Hopefully this chapter gives the first gimmer of insight as to why.

Gah, so many reviews, thank you all for doing so they make this so much easier to do. The next chapter: The Darkness within us all, will cover the time in the house of Riddle. See you all soon!

A final note of thanks to my Beta Travtexan who has been a wonderful aid in getting the story to a good level of decency.

LGreymark


	18. The Darkness In Us All

AN: JKR Made the Harry Potter universe, she owns it, end of story, you get the idea.

AN2: So ah… A few warnings, there's going to be gore, rape, strong language… And character death. Just thought you should know.

-:-

Chapter Seventeen: The Darkness In Us All

SLAP!

The vicious sound rang around the headmaster's office and was then followed by a stunned silence before a keening sound reached everyone's ears. Hermione could only watch, numb, as her mother sank back into her father's arms, Dumbledore still reeling from the second physical assault he had received from a Granger woman that year. The agonized wails coming from Emma Granger were enough to put tears in the eyes of all present. Hermione heard her father's cold tones sounding around the room.

"What, the fuck, was that? Harry wades his way through creatures that nearly take his life, only to be tortured and whisked away to god knows where. And the only suspect we have turns out to have been forced to do what he did with magic? You had better start explaining yourself or I think you'll find that fists hurt just as much as hocus pocus."

Hermione heard a greasy tone that made her skin crawl. Apparently Dumbledore thought Professor Snape's presence was necessary.

"Headmaster, if I might be so bold, why exactly are Miss Granger's parents so upset, they barely know Mr Potter."

That made Hermione frown. It was a good point; why had Dumbledore allowed Harry to stay at her house over the summer? Why had he allowed her parents to adopt him? Surely he could have put a stop to that; surely he would have sent a letter at least if not turning up himself. But no, he had left them alone, and had, much to Hermione's confusion, left Harry mostly alone despite the large changes in his happiness and lifestyle.

"Severus, Harry stayed with the Grangers last summer; they also adopted him."

Due to the circumstances of the situation Hermione suppressed the laugh that welled up in her throat at Snape's expression. It was like someone had force fed him a lemon then had him chase it down with salt and vodka. He seemed to want to speak but Dumbledore overrode him.

"Now isn't the time Severus. Mr Granger I assure you that everything that can be done is being done; thanks to your daughter's deduction we can all be reasonably assured that Mr Krum's brother is behind most of the attacks, if not all of them. With that in mind there are a few places we can look. Mr Krum is also being questioned at the moment, although it appears he has been under the _Imperius_ curse for the better part of a year now and he hasn't been able to tell us anything useful so far."

Hermione let the old man ramble; she was half listening to him and half running through her mind everything she could think of that might be relevant to the situation. Slowly a seed of an idea germinated in her mind and burst into bloom.

"Did Harry ever tell you about his vision?"

The room shut up and looked at her, Snape with disdain, her parents with curiosity, and Dumbledore with sharp precision that she guessed was the gaze Harry often described as 'X-Ray Vision'.

"What vision?"

The question was direct, sharp; it had seemed to focus the old Headmaster. Hermione tried to be as equally concise.

"Over the summer Harry had a vision of who we now know to be Valmortis, probably Krum's brother torturing a woman and talking to an entity Harry thinks was Voldemort in some form or other. They were located in The House of Riddle."

-:-

"Mr Potter, do wake up."

The cold high tone rang through Harry's head like a knife, cutting through the haze of unconsciousness and rousing him from his magically induced slumber. His eyes flickered open and then blinked furiously as he tried to clear the fog around his thoughts and vision. His throat was dry, cracked, probably from his screams earlier. He was kneeling on a hard stone floor, his wrists chained above his head and to the sides.

He focussed on the figure in front of him, trying to snap out of the fugue that was holding his thought process captive.

"Where?"

He managed to say a single word before his throat convulsed forcing him to cough, brutally ripping open the sores in his throat. A low moan rolled from his lips as the pain thundered through him. Mercifully the figure in front of him, Harry was sure it was a man, answered him.

"You already know that Mr Potter; you are a small number of kilometres south of Little Hangleton, your knees currently rest on the floor of The House of Riddle."

The House of Riddle? Why was that name familiar? Harry battled with his consciousness, refusing to slip away. Eventually the name clicked into place; his dream, he was being held within that self-same building. That meant…that meant Voldemort was here somewhere. Once more Harry tried to speak but he couldn't, his throat betraying him and setting off another round of painful coughs.

"Do not speak Mr Potter, you are weak enough as it is and it wouldn't do for you to go killing yourself accidentally. Just settle down, everything will be over soon. You must be curious how all this came about. You see, I was Grindelwald's protégé. We were locked up in that prison for years, given scraps of food through the doors. Whenever the guards left the old man would tutor me through the wall, desperately trying to pass on his knowledge of the dark arts. When the topic of Voldemort came up he urged me to find him, to carry on the Dark Lord's work to revive him from his death."

Harry finally opened his eyes again after the coughing. The room was lighter now and he could see Valmortis sitting on a foot stool not four meters away. He was leaning forward slightly, the ice cold eyes behind his mask boring into Harry's own.

"I think, it's about time we tell you why you are here. You will not be leaving, and I'd rather you die knowing you're the reason why your pretty mudblood whore will soon be dead."

Harry felt his blood run chill, no, he couldn't be, refused to be the reason for Hermione's death. Croakily he managed, "No!"

Coughs again wracked his body but he felt somehow vindicated in that small measure of rebellion. Valmortis didn't seem to care, continuing on as if Harry hadn't said a thing.

"Have you ever looked at a picture of yourself and Tom Riddle side by side Harry? I'd wager that if you did you wouldn't be able to tell the photos apart. You both had the same skin tone, the same black, constantly unruly hair, and the same vivid green eyes. Before the creature who is Lord Voldemort was born Tom Riddle was your doppelganger."

Harry's breath caught in his throat again; he couldn't deny that Valmortis was correct. He remembered watching the diary memory of Tom Riddle accusing Hagrid, and he had watched him in the chamber. Same black hair, same eyes, even the same lopsided smile. Valmortis continued on, completely unaware of the mental cyclone in Harry's mind.

"Did you ever wonder Harry, what happened those thirteen years ago in your parents' Godric's Hollow cottage? Did you ever wonder why he came to kill your family that night? It was all because of a prophecy."

Harry was confused; what did Voldemort looking like him have to do with his parents deaths? Valmortis was clearly being obtuse to keep Harry's attention, but why? Did the strange, detached man enjoy the story-telling? Or was there another force at work here?

"Do you want to know the prophecy Mr Potter? I'm sure you would; unfortunately we don't know all of it, and you will die ignorant Mr Potter. What we do know is that it led the Dark Lord to kill you that night. But your silly muggleborn mother ruined whatever plan the Dark Lord had that night, and purely by accident too. It does not matter; what does matter is that when the Dark Lord died that night a measure of his own being passed into you. I have seen pictures of your father at this age Mr Potter, when my master was proving this connection to me. I have seen pictures of your mother at the same. You look nothing like either of them."

Harry's breath caught again in his throat, he had seen pictures of his father and mother. They had the same messy hair, the same eyes. Where was Valmortis going with this? He found it difficult to focus, to process all the things running through his mind.

"Your father used to have quite straight hair Mr. Potter; he could brush it back and leave it there. When he came off his broom one day and saw his hair in a mirror he decided he liked the look and used magic to put it that way permanently. You didn't get your hair from your father, Harry. And, as for your eyes..."

As Valmortis kept speaking Harry thought he would heave; everything people had told him was either a lie or misinformed. Thoughts were rushing through the young wizard's head faster than he could process them.

"Your mother's eyes, while green, are a slightly different shade than yours; now I know that isn't exactly conclusive but I think you'll find it matters little regardless. I suppose now you're wondering why exactly this matters; why does it matter that you and Tom Riddle share an exact appearance? Mr. Potter it is because you carry a piece of his soul."

Harry really did throw up then, or he would have if there was anything to chuck, his stomach felt strangely empty.

"Yes, that scar you have? It is a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, embedded in your flesh as a keepsake of the Killing Curse. It's a strange thing that curse, with a side effect no one ever imagined, because thus far, the curse has never failed, save for one instance. You see, there is a failsafe built into the curse, and it is also what draws the main power of the spell. The Killing Curse rips a piece of the casters soul, and forces it into the target. The human body is only capable of holding one soul Mr. Potter, that is irrefutable, and that makes this method of killing particularly potent.

"But your mother, curse her Mudblood soul to hell, gave you a protection that the Killing Curse could not penetrate. She wrapped her own soul about yours with her love, creating a barrier between you and the Dark Lord. When the Killing Curse struck you, the fragment of his soul did not penetrate into your own and cause the instantaneous death that is so common from that particular spell.

"Rather, your mother's soul battled with it and forced it to remain only on the surface of your being. Now, that protection that your mother gave you was powerful, but over the years it has been slowly eroding, and this summer it reached a point where the Dark Lord was able to place a vision within your mind. He knew then that the time was ripe for your death, and the Dark Lord's resurrection.

"You see Mr. Potter, the Killing Curse's effect is twofold; it not only kills its target, but if it should fail, for any reason, and the curse is instead rebounded upon its caster, forcing the soul from the body, a piece of that soul is locked within another living being, anchoring the whole to this earth. And should the time arise when it is possible to do so, that soul fragment can be reclaimed to resurrect the original caster of the curse."

The already grim feelings that were coursing through Harry amplified tenfold; they could resurrect Voldemort, and they could bring back the most dangerous wizard the world had seen since Grindlewald. Harry's body again tried to vomit but failed.

"The ritual is quite simple, we combine the bone matter of a relative with flesh from a servant to create a homunculus and into that homunculus we force the soul shard from your scar. And to bind it all together, we need to return his magic to him, and that will come from the blood of a pure magical being.

We were originally going to use a unicorn, but frustratingly the Dark Lord's soul has become immune to the substance after he used it to sustain himself when you were eleven. Fortunately fate, ever the even handed being, has given us a substitute. Behind a unicorn, the most pure magical being is a bonded Veela."

Fleur, the thought rang through Harry's head like the tolling of a great bell hidden within his mind. She was the key to all of this. He could only croak out a single word.

"Why?"

Valmortis tilted his head, as if in thought.

"Why Fleur Delacour? Well you see Harry, our plan was forcing you through the tournament, threatening you just enough to make you train harder so that you would succeed. Fleur Delacour was already planning to go with the other delegates to Britain, and it was little trouble to force a charm on her magic to bond her with you. Unfortunately another filthy mudblood ruined our plans."

Harry felt a surge of pride run through him at his bond with Hermione. It wasn't much, but even that small mental rebellion was enough to keep him conscious.

"You were already bonded when Fleur Delacour saw you in that antechamber, her magic reached out to you as planned but it was rebuffed by a stronger force, a bond of pure love. How sweet. Fortunately those bonds are not infallible, and there is nothing stopping you from bonding to more than one woman. Miss Delacour, could you come out from the shadows dear?"

Harry turned his head in a sharp motion to where Valmortis was gesturing and choked as he saw Fleur walking forwards tentatively a sad look on her lips and tears streaming down her cheeks. He watched and heard as she opened her lips and tried to speak.

"Harry, I'm…"

The shout that came from him was harsh and tore at his already inflamed throat but he didn't care.

"TRAITOR! How could…"

He broke off into harsh wracking coughs, between which he was gratified to see Fleur openly crying, backing off from his body. The hand she had reached out to stroke his face withdrawn. The cold high voice returned.

"Do not be so hard on her Harry. Her bond and a few compulsion charms left little room for argument. We tried to use the _Imperius_ but her nature rebuffed that nicely. She had no choice, just as she has no choice about what she is about to do next. Fleur, complete your bond with him."

Harry watched in rising dread as Fleur moved forwards, crying openly as her hands mechanically released him from his bonds and laid him out on the ground, stripping him as she did so. Harry found he couldn't move, some spell keeping him paralysed. His mind flashed back to that time in the hospital wing with Hermione wiping the spit from his lips and he shuddered. Not again.

Trapped within himself he vaguely noted Valmortis shutting the door behind him on his way out before Fleur pointed her wand at his crotch. Harry tried to flinch but she only cast a muttered charm that, to Harry's continued horror and embarrassment, forced him erect. He couldn't watch, and so he closed his eyes, thoughts of Hermione running through his head as he felt a traitorously warm sensation wrap around his nether regions, then a surge of power as something inside him snapped.

-:-

"Miss Granger, are you certain?"

Dumbledore's voice hadn't lost its hard clipped tone and Hermione was beginning to wonder what the significance of that was. She'd never heard him speak this way before.

"That's what Harry said sir. He told me it was inscribed on a plaque on the front of the twin doors into the building."

Dumbledore looked incredibly thoughtful and sank back into his wingback armchair, fingers pressed together in a steeple in front of him. He sounded tenser than before, but was somehow less focussed, as if trying to remember a long forgotten memory.

"Thank you Miss Granger, that should give us a lead as to where he is being held. Severus, fetch Alastor and the Delacours for me. They should be here for this as well; I believe you will find them still in the stands. For the moment Hermione I suggest you and your family find some way to get some rest. This is going to be a long night and there is little you can do here."

Hermione's eyes rested on the floor, downcast as the realization that Harry was in terrible danger and there was nothing she could do struck home. Her voice was filled with sadness as she replied,

"Yes sir. I don't suppose you could allow me entrance into Harry's room in the champions' suite, do you?"

She looked up briefly to see Dumbledore smiling. "I think you'll find that you can access the room you wish already Miss Granger. Rules are best enforced if no one knows they can be broken, aren't they?"

His tone suggested a clear dismissal from his office, and with that cryptic remark following in their wake the Grangers headed to the other side of the seventh floor, the two elders trailing half a step behind.

When her father spoke up Hermione realized she hadn't been thinking. "Are you sure you want to be alone sweetheart? I know you and Harry have that link of yours; when was the last time you were truly on your own?"

Hermione thought about that. She and Harry had had a few minor arguments that year, and retreated into themselves for a while; Harry especially was prone to retreating from their contact to muddle things out for himself. But they never actually closed off from one another; ever since they had discovered the link they had worked on it regularly, and now, with them closer than ever, they couldn't bear to cut the constant flow of emotion that made them feel so at home.

Hermione had been distracted, throwing herself into the details of the night to avoid thinking about it, but now that she had, she nearly collapsed. The emptiness in her mind was crushing, like a vice clamped around her mind forcing her to be alone. She felt strong arms wrap around her and pull her against a muscled chest. She knew it wasn't Harry, she could feel the differences between him and her father. Dan was taller, and slightly broader, but he also had the softness of old age. In his early forties now, he had a slight paunch and his muscles were going to seed.

She remembered what being hugged by Harry was like. His body was lean and taut from all the running and exercise he did, but it was somehow soft and gentle, as if he consciously made himself more accommodating to her body as he hugged her. Above all it felt truly safe, at least that was something her father's hugs shared with Harry's. They barely made it to the suite and the two of them sat on the couch side by side, Hermione crying and curled up in her father's arms. She was dimly aware of her mother's soothing voice in her ear and a soft hand rubbing her back as she sobbed wetly into her father's shirt.

Neither Dan nor Emma knew why Hermione passed out so suddenly, they assumed it was from exhaustion, but the true cause was much more sinister.

-:-

Harry tried to block everything out, he tried to yell, or scream at Fleur to stop, but he couldn't do a thing. Eventually he just cried. He felt violated and foul, like someone had dunked him in raw sewage. She had to use a spell to make him climax and in his mind he rebelled against the pleasure he felt. It was dirty and sick. She rolled off him then and lay down on the hard ground beside him, snuggling up to his side as though what she had just done was somehow special.

He couldn't move away. He wanted to; he wanted to run, to throw up, to do _something_ other than just lie there and cry, and at least he could still do that. Soon the choking started; just like all those months ago in Gryffindor tower he couldn't breathe, his mouth was still creating saliva and he couldn't swallow.

The feeling of helplessness returned as he felt his throat convulsing, trying to force the spit out from an unhelpful pair of lips. Suddenly, to his great surprise, his throat cleared, the convulsions stopped. Then a slightly tearful voice met his ears that he wanted to scream at, to rebel against, but he couldn't, he had to listen.

"Is that better Harry? I'm sorry I forgot you can't do that on your own. This is only temporary, I'm sure you'll be fine soon. And… thank you, that felt so wonderful to finally do that with you."

Harry couldn't believe his ears, was Fleur really as delusional to believe that they would let him go? That he would be allowed to live? And as for what she just did, wonderful was not even close to the right descriptor.

"I'm not delusional Harry; he promised you'd go free."

Harry's mind froze, could she hear his thoughts? That would mean… He reached out with his mind, searching in the void of space around him and without trouble found her, a pulsing bright mind that seemed to try and wrap him in positive emotions. He realized what had snapped during… that. It had been the restrictions on Fleur's bond, and it hadn't been snapping in him, but rather in her.

Suddenly it was all worse, the physical rape he might recover from, but this… He lashed out with his mind, throwing his own mental strength against hers, battering her with his will, forcing her out of his mind, forcing her to leave him alone. He heard a gasp from beside him then crying, pitiful crying that made his heart clench in sympathy. But whilst his heart heard a crying girl, a crying friend, his mind only heard a weeping traitor.

There was no remorse in the young wizard's mind as he forcefully shoved Fleur's mind from his and erected barriers between them, walls of memories of Hermione, her laughing, kissing him, smiling, being happy. The most cheerful memories he could think of that he could bring to mind, because he knew they would also cause Fleur pain to try and break through, reminders of his bond with Hermione. The one and only bond he ever wanted.

He had no idea how long he lay there, reinforcing his mental barriers, but at some point he knew Fleur fled the room, trying to put distance between them. He spared a moment of thought for her. He knew she had been mostly forced into this, but the bond that had been forced upon her was clouding her mind, making her think that everything that was happening was okay, because they were together now, no matter how much Harry hated it. It sickened him to think that the wonderful young woman he had met at the start of the school year, his friend, was so broken inside; was she ever really his friend? Had this sickness been there from the start? Or had something forced this upon her, broken her inside?

In the darkness of the tiny cell, with Fleur's virginal blood on his crotch mixed with his own semen, spit slowly clogging his throat and his mind swirling with memories of the woman he loved. Harry retreated within himself, and fled from all the pain.

It was nearly ten minutes later when Valmortis slammed the door open and found Harry's body starved of oxygen, slowly dying on the floor of the cell, only his magic keeping him alive.

-:-

Dan was worried, furious, and scared. But somehow he knew Hermione was going through worse. The kids had never adequately explained their link and he had never asked about it; he trusted them. Now, though, he wished he had pushed for a better explanation, so that he could understand what Hermione was going through.

She had woken about half an hour before and had retreated to Harry's room, the door opening for her and no one else. Dan could still hear her weeping coming through the resolutely shut door. She had moaned as she had awoken, complaining of a nonspecific pain that was stronger than anything she had ever felt, memories that weren't hers, painful, sick memories.

The last thing Dan had heard as she closed the door behind her was Hermione cursing under her breath about 'that bitch'. Who she was referring to he had no idea, but it didn't matter. He had to help them resolve this. Sparing his wife one last pained look he turned for the doorway to the rest of the castle, confident he could find his way.

He'd be damned if he sat around listening to his little girl cry while he could be doing something to fix it.

-:-

Emma watched as her husband left, that powerful emotion on his face that she had first seen so many years ago in the military hospital where she used to work. She and Dan had never told Hermione how they met, and Hermione had never asked. It was rather simple really; Dan had been a soldier, wounded, under her care. Things had progressed much as they did in those days and they had gotten married soon after his release. He would never be able to fight again with the damage done to his abdomen, just like it had eventually taken his ability to give Emma any more children.

Harry had been somewhat of a godsend for them. He had been the son Dan had never been able to have, and he had been the child Emma had never been able to bear. They loved him as their own and never once regretted adopting him. He proved every day that he appreciated their love and was doing his utmost to respect them and make them proud of him; they couldn't ask for a better son, or addition to their family.

And now he was missing. It was strange; not twelve months ago the news would have been sad, but only because he was Hermione's friend. Now it was a physical ache in her chest, much the same as it was when Hermione had been petrified. She wanted her son back, to hold him close to her and assure herself that he was okay, that he was alive, healthy and well. She needed him to be safe.

She never heard the door to Harry's room open and wasn't aware of Hermione until she slid her hands into Emma's and tugged her up from the couch in front of the fire. Blearily her eyes focussed on her daughter and the two women clung to each other, crying silently in mutual understanding.

Eventually they ended up in Harry's room, a pillow clutched to Hermione's chest as she lay on the bed curled around it, with Emma sitting behind her, absently stroking her daughter's hair as she looked around the room. The thing that struck her immediately about the room was that Harry was fastidiously tidy. For all of Hermione's bookishness and smarts she was a tad messy, mostly because she was too engrossed in whatever she was doing to bother about what she put down where.

But it seemed that Harry was almost painfully neat. Everything clearly had its place; his broomstick mounted on the wall, a modest collection of books that Emma could tell were his and not Hermione's simply from the subject matter, wizarding novels and texts about advanced mathematics and sorcery. She even spotted a physics text book. It occurred to her that Harry was just as addicted to knowledge as her daughter, just in a different way.

Typically Hermione would stumble across a topic that interested her for whatever reason. Then she would proceed to research every piece of information on that subject that she could, and reverse engineer all of the discoveries. The way most people made discoveries was through trial and error; they would aim for a result, then work out the best method to get there. Hermione knew exactly the method to get to a specific result, but instead yearned for better ways to do things. She would try to optimise a specific method to obtain new and interesting results that were hopefully better than the last.

Harry's obsession, addiction, whatever, seemed to stem from a slightly different philosophy. Scanning the texts she noted that they were all in series. None of them were individual texts; even the novels were sagas, not stand-alone. The whole bottom shelf of the modest book case was devoted to thirty consecutive Defence Against the Dark Arts texts that Emma guessed he must have bought that summer in Hogsmeade, they were quite new.

It seemed that Harry doggedly followed a single line of information until he was a master at it. She briefly scanned the titles and realized that the texts moved not from beginner level to advanced level as she had initially presumed, but rather from an already advanced level to some kind of specified study she didn't understand. It looked mostly like theory work but she wondered how long Harry would be able to keep anything as simply theory. Harry was obsessed with proficiency, with achievement.

It wasn't enough for him to be simply the best in the class, he had to be the best he could physically achieve, and while Emma wasn't aware of the nuances of the world her children lived in, she was well aware that Harry was incredibly powerful. During the Christmas holidays Dan had been working on the car when the jack slipped. He later told Emma that it was lucky Harry had been there with him talking because the boy had moved his hand and the car had simply stopped. He had later said that it had been impulse rather than fine control but Emma wasn't so sure. She just didn't know why Harry was hiding his achievements.

She turned to her daughter and their eyes met. Emma blushed slightly having been caught snooping in what she was sure was essentially her daughter's room. She had noted how comfortable Hermione was in the room, and how there were very definitely two 'sides' to the bed and Emma was sure that her daughter was currently lying on Harry's side. She watched as Hermione scooted backwards and sat against the headboard, knees up and arms wrapped around them.

Emma took one of Hermione's hands in her own and gently asked, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

They looked at each other for a few more moments, Hermione's eyes suspiciously bright. Emma's heart broke a little more when Hermione choked back another sob as she spoke.

"She raped him mum, that two timing bitch raped him. And now he's nearly dead, dying far away from me with no way for me to help him. I don't even really know where he is."

She broke down a little more at the end and Emma wrapped her daughter in a hug, trying to push back her own tears and only partially succeeding.

"How do you know?"

Hermione gave her a sad look. "Harry has managed to send me some of his emotions and thoughts. I don't know if it's deliberate but it gave me a pretty good idea of what's going on."

Emma smiled wanly, aware that even this small connection with harry was doing wonders for her daughter.

"Who raped him dear?"

"Fleur Delacour"

Now that was a shock, hadn't she been one of their closest friends? The one who…

"The bond?"

Emma closed her eyes in disappointment as Hermione nodded and answered verbally, "Yes, apparently it's part of some plot for Fleur's bond to be completed. She was compelled magically to rape him, but that only seemed to have gotten her past her misgivings; she still thoroughly enjoyed it."

Emma sighed, letting out a large breath that she had been holding in almost unconsciously. She tried to stay calm, not letting the flood of anger towards the young Frenchwoman overwhelm her. Slowly she turned her attention to the second part of Hermione's declaration and abruptly failed to hold back her tears.

"And, he's…dying, is he?"

-:-

Hermione watched with sadness in her eyes as her mother started to break down in front of her. She hated this, the isolation from him. The inability to comfort her love was almost as bad as not being able to feel him at all. She didn't know why she could suddenly feel his emotions, but she suspected it had something to do with what Harry was doing, focussing on her to the exclusion of all else. That and the necklace she had given him.

Carefully she answered her mother's question, aware that downplaying this too much would make her mother suspicious and overreact more than even the true details would provoke.

"He was, they hit him with a spell that paralyzed him, much the same as he was earlier in the year when that red-headed bint potioned him. He was disgusted with what Fleur did, he pushed her away, and she fled. He was in that cell, alone, with no one to get rid of the drool in his throat. He was choking to death."

Hermione watched as her mother deflated slightly; she knew her mum well enough to know that Emma Granger was trying to run all this through her head, curiously much the same as Harry would. Instead of pushing her, Hermione simply slipped forwards on the bed and wrapped her mother back in the hug that was so recently broken. They stayed like that for a time, holding each other gently rocking back and forth. Eventually Emma spoke.

"He's not coming home is he?"

Hermione felt a stab of pain in her chest, she couldn't help but answer though.

"No, not on his own, if he's going to make it back, we're going to have to go get him."

Hermione faltered several times as she spoke, but eventually she managed to get the whole sentence out. When she did her mother tensed in her embrace, arms wrapping more securely around her daughter's waist, as if to keep her safe. Hermione knew exactly what her mum was worried about; she had to head that off immediately.

"If they find him, I'm going to get him back. Would you do any less for dad?"

Hermione watched her mother seriously consider that for a second before shooting her a serious look.

"We're married honey. I've loved for father for over twenty years."

Hermione smiled and squeezed her mum's hand fondly; when she replied though it was with steel in her voice that she only used in a few dire situations, usually situations revolving around her missing boyfriend.

"I share a link so intimate with Harry that we can literally lose ourselves in each other. I've experienced the world through his eyes mum, I've been a part of his decision making process, we've shared the same thoughts, emotions, and even sensations for months. He is literally my soul mate mum; I have to go to help him if I have the chance."

Hermione caught her mother's sigh and odd look, she was about to question it but her Emma beat her to the punch.

"You're so old for your years, sweetheart. You're fifteen for crying out loud. You shouldn't be worrying about life and death scenarios, or soul mates."

Hermione felt the sting of her mother's words and opened her mouth to retort but again, Emma got there first.

"Look, I know you love Harry; I know he's the one for you. He is my son too you know, if only through adoption; I know how wonderful you are together and how good he is for you. I'm not arguing with anything you said. I guess I'm just sad my little girl is growing up so fast."

Hermione finally managed to get a word in.

"Well sharing the memories of a boy who's been brutally abused, raped and nearly killed will do that to a girl. Harry's been in more life and death experiences than I've had years at school, Primary as well as Hogwarts. I've seen it all mum; he has been through things most full-grown men don't go through. And I've been there with him for a big chunk of it, the rest I've seen through his perspective, his memories. I can vividly remember stabbing the basilisk with Gryffindor's sword in second year, and I was petrified when he fought that thing. We might be very young for the experiences we have, but that doesn't excuse us from our responsibilities. Harry will be my husband one day, don't disbelieve that. And I'll be damned if I have to live as a spinster because of a bloody Frenchwoman."

Hermione was flabbergasted when her mum actually had the audacity to chuckle at that last statement.

"I'm so proud of you honey. You're supporting your man, there's no fault with that. Just remember that I'm still your mum, and despite being in a world I know nothing about I still have the right to worry about my little girl."

Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes as her mum hugged her again.

"Of course you can worry mum. I just get a little antsy when people belittle our relationship. I know it hasn't been long. But I have known him since I was twelve. He's the person I've spent the most time with since I was that old and he is the most important person in my life, no offense mum."

Emma's chuckle was music to Hermione's ears as they broke apart, a watery smile on her mum's face.

"None taken, sweetheart. Do…do you think you could tell me more about him? It's been such a short time. If he…if he doesn't come back tonight..."

"Don't say that mum, he will."

"Of course he will. I guess I just want to hear more about him from a new perspective; he downplays many of his achievements, I can tell. And…I want to learn some more about the boy who has literally taken your heart. And I thought maybe you had a unique perspective to speak from."

Hermione was openly smiling now; she knew her mum loved Harry. It was hard not to after all. But more to the point it was a good way of keeping them distracted from the fact that Harry wasn't actually with them right now. And it was distracting her from the pain coming from Harry. It wasn't unbearable, but she knew there was nothing she could do to help, and he would need her clear-headed when Dumbledore found him, not weepy and fragile.

"What do you want to know?"

-:-

Harry was shackled again. He could feel the cool hard steel around his wrists and ankles. His leg was killing him, it felt like it was on fire around the point the spider had bitten. He supposed they didn't really care if the venom killed him down the track. He doubted he was going to live much longer anyway.

The room was supremely dark and Harry couldn't make out anything with his eyes. But when he closed them, he could hear the sounds of soft, but ragged, breathing coming from somewhere to his right. Kneeling shakily and shuffling to the edge of his manacles he managed to get close enough to make out the profile of a very familiar head in the pitch dark.

"Why the fuck are you in here Fleur? I could have sworn I made it clear that I don't want anything to do with you."

He heard a wet sob then and frowned. Memories of the happy, proud and fierce girl he had met at the beginning of the year. The loyal and frankly wonderful young woman who had been such a close friend to himself and Hermione, where was she? And who was really in the room with him? Uncomfortably he sat down facing away from her, resolved to ignore her in spite of his curiosity. But eventually it got the better of him.

"What did they do to you?"

The quiet sobbing stopped and Harry heard the clinking of chains; clearly he wasn't the only one being held against his will.

"Just now or earlier?"

Harry grimaced, it dawned on him that Valmortis wouldn't have been happy with Fleur nearly leaving Harry to die.

"Just now I suppose, we can tackle earlier afterwards."

In spite of himself Harry was falling back into the easy camaraderie that he had shared with her all year. He could feel the bond trying to push its way back into his mind and realized that it was probably facilitating his cooling emotions. The thought was sickening, she had raped him, betrayed him to his worst enemies, and taken him away from his Hermione, and because of the bond he couldn't even hold a grudge.

"They beat me for a while, and broke my wand."

Harry winced; he knew what it was like to be beaten, and the sad, broken way in which she spoke told him that the loss of her wand was more terrible to her than the physical injuries, and he couldn't blame her.

"Now tell me about earlier, why did you betray me? Why, Fleur? What did I do to deserve your spite?"

Another sob echoed around the pitch black room.

"Up until recently I didn't even know. I've been battling the bond all year; my Veela nature has been acting against me all year, trying to force me to you. Some days I've felt like I just wanted to jump you in the corridors; I haven't felt like myself for months. Then, about a week ago, Victor came to talk to me. He explained how I had been charmed and that when the time came, I wouldn't be able to stop myself. When I asked what he just gave me that blank look of his. I realized then that he'd been under the _Imperius_ all year. We never even knew."

She took a shaky few breaths then, before continuing, Harry couldn't bring himself to interrupt.

"When I saw you in the maze at the end there, it was like I was locked inside my body, unable to control myself as it talked to you, then accompanied you here, then stupefied you. I managed to get a few words out through the charm but not enough to warn you beforehand and not enough to make any real sense. When I said I wanted to be free that was mostly the Veela talking, I never would have done this voluntarily. Victor was a decoy, they'll have him to question but he'll only send them in circles. Apparently I've been the real enemy all year and I didn't even know."

Harry felt confused, he had no idea how to deal with this, and little was making sense.

"Why didn't you warn us earlier? Why didn't you let us know that Victor was cursed?"

Harry heard the young Veela sobbing in the darkness and the words she choked out were barely comprehensible.

"I tried Harry! I tried so many times and my body just refused to listen. The Veela in me would just take over and force me to be all happy and polite. The way I understand it they charmed my other nature before I even left France and that's why it's been so uncooperative."

Harry felt like he was going to have a headache, the more questions she answered the more she raised.

"Your 'other nature'? You make it sound like your Veela blood is a completely different entity."

Fleur paused for a long while, as if trying to think of how to explain; when she did it only just explained the situation to Harry's understanding.

"It's the way I think of it, and in a way, it really is different. I am sure you and Hermione have been inside each other's minds? Aware of the differences but immersed within one another?"

Harry nodded, and then realized she couldn't see so he just grunted affirmatively.

"It's is something like that. I am aware of my more 'Veela' traits, like the allure, or the transformation. But I cannot often access them if the Veela part of me is being coy or wily. And sometimes they force themselves upon me without warning… You have merged totally with Hermione yes? Become one being?"

Harry nodded again, before once again realizing she couldn't see, supressing the urge to mutter darkly he gave a simple 'yes'.

"True mastery of my Veela abilities would manifest as something similar, it requires a level of trust between the two parts of me that I don't yet have. Gabrielle is a natural, so is maman. Grand'mere has been trying to tutor me but I just don't have the natural trust, they say I am more 'human' than 'Veela'.

Harry felt he was finally getting it.

"And so Valmortis somehow put a charm on your Veela nature to make it bond with me and control you at opportune times?"

He could hear Fleur's grimace in her voice as she replied, "Or inopportune depending on your side of the fence."

Harry pondered this for a while before asking the other thing that was on his mind; he wasn't in the mood for politeness and just went straight to the point.

"What about when you raped me? You told me you enjoyed that. How could you? How could you enjoy doing that to me?"

The chains clinked again; Harry guessed she must have flinched.

"I am sorry Harry. When…when it was over, the Veela inside me, we…we merged truly for the first time when we…ahem, came. The euphoria from that and the physical pleasure from our…coupling, made me addle-headed. I am truly sorry for what I did; I could not help it, the Veela side of me took over and I was made to watch from within myself as I raped you. I am sorry for every tear you shed mon frère."

Harry spat on the ground in front of him.

"I'm not really your fucking brother after that am I? Now I can feel you at the side of my mind, trying to force your way in. When all I want is Hermione with me I only get you. I can never forgive you for this Fleur. You understand that don't you? You've taken too much from me tonight, maybe even my life."

-:-

They fell silent for a long time. There was no way of telling just how long they sat there in the dark; Harry passed the time by counting his heartbeats. He got to two thousand before he gave up. Eventually the door was flung open and Harry was blinded by the light of a lit wand in his face. As he blinked away the spots in his eyes he realized blithely that the room was tiny, no more than four meters square. And he and Fleur were chained to the walls opposite each other.

No sooner had he made this realization that he was released from his chains, him and Fleur both, and they were shoved bodily into the light of what appeared to be a dungeon. He didn't get a good look at his captor but the man was too short to be Valmortis. He only thought it was a man because of the grunting breath that sounded oddly masculine.

They were shoved through several corridors, heads held straight with some kind of spell to stop them turning around to look at whoever was behind them. A flight of stairs later and they emerged into a large entry way that was incredibly dark. They saw little of the house as they were shoved through the front door that Harry remembered from his vision all those months ago.

As they emerged into the cool night air, Harry saw before them Valmortis standing on the paved road, a small bag in his arms. The four of them stood in silence for a moment as the man behind Harry and Fleur did something with his wand. Then a grubby hand pushed something into Fleur's arms. Valmortis explained.

"Here is your portkey Miss Delacour. You are to use it as soon as we are done here. It will take you back to the school; you will claim to have escaped our clutches but you had to leave Mr Potter behind. The activation phrase is 'Freedom'; should you leave early, however, your parents, your little sister, and anyone else I deem necessary, will be killed. Do not mistake me for a fool either Miss Delacour, you cannot transform here."

Harry was a little stunned; they actually planned to let her go? He was confused still when Valmortis turned his inscrutable gaze towards him.

"Mr Potter, you will not be leaving tonight. Not from our presence regardless. We have to make a short journey now, Peter here will take you alongside him."

Harry barely managed to roll the name around his head before his arm was gripped tightly and he was surrounded by the sensation of tightness and constriction. It was very brief and abruptly the sensation ceased and he was aware of a great number of graves around them. Confused, Harry looked at Valmortis who chuckled slightly, an eerie sound that set Harry's teeth on edge.

"This is a graveyard Mr Potter; do keep up, we need material from one of my master's relatives."

Harry was thrust backwards against a headstone and ropes bound his form tightly to it. Fleur thudded to the ground next to him a moment later and was similarly bound. There was no talking now and Harry watched, silenced by a spell, as a hooded man Harry assumed was 'Peter' began scorching some ground in broad circle whilst Valmortis brought several items from the bag: a glass phial, a long thin dagger, and a broad-bladed axe.

Without preamble the small package he had been holding was placed in the centre of the circle, and with the dagger Valmortis carefully traced intricate patterns on the ground, Peter filling the grooves in with something that looked like molten lead from his wand. Harry watched the pair moving around for a few seconds and caught a glimpse of Peter's hand. Realising one of the fingers was missing made it clear that Peter Pettigrew had indeed returned to his master the previous year.

Harry stared up at the night sky for the first time, trying to get an idea of what the time was. The moon was just barely reaching its apex and Harry guessed that they had been in captivity for a few hours at most. Time ticked by slowly as the pair worked in silence. Then, suddenly, they stopped. Valmortis spoke first, in his high, cold voice he called out in some ethereal forgotten tongue that tickled at Harry's sinuses and threatened to make him pass out from the magic roiling from it.

The ground beneath him bubbled and roiled, flecks of white dust fleeing the dirt and spiralling forward in tight streams. Harry watched, aghast, as they formed a thin skeleton of alien proportions; no human was that tall and thin. When the skeleton was complete the two men stepped away and Pettigrew knelt down. Harry watched, unable to look away as Valmortis took up the axe and with a simple, smooth motion, decapitated Pettigrew.

Blood sprayed everywhere and to Harry's disgust Peter's skin sloughed away to the ground before becoming pale and rising from the dirt. His flesh ripped itself from Peter's body with meaty tearing noises that threatened to make Harry vomit. Blood and organs fell to the ground unneeded alongside the skeleton of the former Marauder as the man's flesh and skin flew to the alien skeleton.

The gory ingredients wrapped themselves around the strange wireframe of bone and smoothed themselves out, revealing a thin body with a flat featureless face. It was genital-less and was even devoid of nipples and a navel. Where ears should have been were gaping holes in the side of the creature's head.

Valmortis took the dagger in hand and advanced on Fleur. He heard scrabbling as she tried to get away but the tall figure of Valmortis merely pinned her in place with a spell. Harry turned his head, unable to watch. There was a brief silence; then Valmortis walked away, the vial filled with blood that was faintly glowing in the darkness, golden blood. Harry turned to look at Fleur and saw a long thin cut on her upper arm that was bleeding the same golden blood encased in the vial; the blood of a bonded Veela.

With an unholy reverence born of true belief Valmortis slipped the vial between the creature's lips and tilted it so that the thick fluid flowed down the being's throat. Then he turned to Harry. The young man had been feeling a great deal of dread rising within him as Valmortis approached the completion of his goal. He was unable to resist as the tall man placed the tip of his wand on Harry's scar and with a sharp motion and a bellowed word in the strange alien tongue, yanked it back.

Harry felt a great force leave his body as a thick cloud of darkness poured from his scar and into a tight ball around Valmortis' wand tip. Smiling down at the thing, Valmortis walked back to the homunculus of Voldemort's body and began chanting once more. When Harry breathed out he realized that he could once again be heard.

Before he could say anything however he felt breath next to his ear and a small heavy something being pushed into his robes.

"When he took the soul fragment Valmortis' spells broke, that's why Pettigrew tied us up. Every continuous enchantment is gone including the charm on my nature; I can act freely again. Take my portkey and when you get the chance, there's a one-way anti-transportation ward on the graveyard; you'll need to run. I don't want to live anymore Harry, I don't want to be charmed again, I don't want to be a slave, and I don't want to hurt you anymore. Let me into your head, take my strength when you go, you'll need everything you can get."

Fleur's whispered words were a mixture of bittersweet and desperate and Harry had to point out the obvious flaw in her plan.

"I'm tied up."

Fleur snorted softly into his ear.

"They're egomaniacs, all of them; from what I've read Voldemort will want to kill you in a fight to cement his power over his followers. All you have to do is escape once he frees you."

Harry nodded and felt Fleur press a soft kiss to the side of his lips. "I love you Harry. I'm sorry we couldn't have met under other circumstances, had a life together. Let me in Harry. Let me help you one last time."

Harry took a few shallow breaths; keeping an eye on Valmortis, he gently nudged Fleur back so that it wouldn't look like they were communicating. Then he let down the walls around his mind. Suddenly, as if spring-loaded, Fleur was there, all around him, a part of him. Her mind was different than Hermione's; more light and open compared to Hermione's cluttered but cosy mind. He felt it then, all of the power she had at her disposal, locked behind a wall of alien nature that Harry assumed was her Veela side. Cautiously he poked the wall with his thoughts and to his amazement it melted at his mental touch.

Fleur's thoughts rang through his mind, clear as day.

"Take it Harry, everything I have to give. Survive; that's all I need, for you to survive."

Harry grimaced slightly at the implications of what they both knew was coming before he wrapped his magic around her own and tugged, hard.

The dam burst, power flooded his veins like never before, and he felt juiced. Like he was plugged into the electrical grid and ran on electricity, like he was a raging river that had just been filled with all the water in the sea. With conscious effort that surprised him he bottled the energy, kept it contained within his mind until he needed it to escape.

It wasn't long that he had to wait; he felt rather than saw Fleur back away as the Homunculus shuddered then stretched its fingers. Valmortis backed away, swishing his wand to conjure robes that settled about the body of Voldemort. Carefully he laid a bone-white wand at the even taller figure's feet before kneeling in supplication.

Harry watched in horror as, blindly, Voldemort reached down and unerringly took up his wand. A brief flash of light emanated from it and it was as though all the scarce warmth fled the already chilly graveyard. Then he opened his eyes. They were coal black, devoid of any colour at all, and reflected in them was a strange otherworldly glint that seemed to come from a light source invisible to the rest of existence. That dead stare fixed upon Harry and the thin mouth opened to reveal two rows of thin needle like teeth. The voice that emanated forth from that being was the one that had haunted Harry's nightmares for over a decade.

"Harry Potter. At last We look upon you with Our own two eyes. You have done well, Our servant; tell Us, where is Pettigrew?"

Harry watched, transfixed whilst Voldemort spoke. It was a sight unlike any other as three separate tongues moved within his mouth creating a layered tone to his voice that Harry found sickening. He heard unnatural echoes as the words Voldemort spoke overlapped on each other and conflicted in strange ways. It was like listening to dozens of people speaking the same words at once, just at different speeds and timbres.

Valmortis trembled visibly, from reverence or fear Harry couldn't tell.

"Dead my lord, he gave himself to fuel your return. You stand now, clothed in his flesh. "

"And that is as it should be, Our servant. Stand. Let Us look at you. And remove that mask."

Harry watched as Valmortis stood steadily and threw back his hood, mask with it. Voldemort seemed to stare at Valmortis for several seconds but Harry got the impression that his featureless eyes were roaming over the shorter man's figure.

"You've been eating well Tyseus. You fit your robes properly now."

"Thank you my lord."

"Give Us your arm, Our servant, that We might discover who else still holds to the old ways."

Harry watched in morbid curiosity as Voldemort reached out and clasped Valmortis' proffered arm before pressing one unnaturally long finger against the ugly tattoo on his forearm.

"Harry, you sit now upon the grave of Our filthy Muggle father who abandoned Our mother before Our birth. He was not Our kin. Watch Harry, as Our true family returns to my side."

-:-

"So you're telling me he leapt onto the back of a _troll_ for you? Before he'd even got to know you properly?"

Emma was amazed as Hermione chuckled.

"He's always been headstrong. I knew right then and there that I loved him, though it probably wasn't actual love till last year."

They sat together in silence for a few seconds before Hermione gasped and turned to look at her with bright, hope filled eyes.

"Harry's going to escape."

Emma turned around and looked at her daughter with incredulity. "But I thought you said…"

Hermione cut her off, too excited to wait for her to finish. "He and Fleur have hatched a plan. It's risky, but anything's better than nothing…"

When her daughter's face fell somewhat before becoming grim Emma got more worried. Hermione continued, "Fleur's staying behind. She's going to sacrifice herself for him."

Emma was dumbfounded. "But wasn't she the one who helped get him there in the first place?"

Her daughter shook her head furiously, as if trying to dislodge an errant thought. "She was made to do that with magic; she was forced into all of it. And now she's going to get Harry out of there."

Emma's mind was reeling, nothing was making sense. "But didn't you just say she was made to? How can she then go against it to help him escape?"

Hermione bit her lip and Emma watched, anxious as she spoke carefully. "I'm not totally sure; something seems to have happened that freed her from the spell but I don't know exactly what it was. Either way Harry is going to make a bid for freedom." She leapt to her feet and Emma reeled slightly with the suddenness of it.

"We have to tell Dumbledore."

-:-

"We can't find it; the damn thing's been made unplottable."

As Dan opened the door to the headmaster's office he heard a gruff voice speaking.

"They're going to have to get out on their own, Potter will find a way."

"I know you think highly of the boy Alastor, but there's no way of knowing what he would have to get through. They've already been missing for two and a half hours. If they were going to get out they would have already. There must be a way we can reach them"

"How exactly, Albus? It's unplottable, no one we have on hand has ever been there, and whoever did this is likely to have the whole place locked down tighter than Azkaban."

Dan had heard enough. "So you're just going to give up? My son has been kidnapped by a murderer and you're just giving up?"

All heads turned to him; Dumbledore, the one named Alastor, the greasy haired professor and both Delacour parents all fixed him with disbelieving stares. There was a long drawn out silence whilst all parties looked at each other.

Apolline Delacour spoke first, a touch of derision in her tone. "You know little of our world, Monsieur; that much is clear. Go back to your Muggle world and leave us to look after our own."

The door burst open for the second time and Dan turned to see Hermione there waving a threatening finger at Apolline.

"Don't you dare talk to my father that way, especially when your daughter got Harry into this mess."

The Frenchwoman bristled at that but Hermione appeared to be having none of it.

"Shut. Up."

The room fell silent once more at Hermione's furious tone. It was broken quickly as she spoke and Dan felt his heart leap in his chest.

"Harry's going to make a bid for freedom, he has a plan and I think he can escape."

Roaring laughter met her words. Dan was about to reprimand the grizzled man named Alastor when the man spoke.

"I told you Albus, I told you he'd get out. Is there anything we can do to help him Miss Granger?"

"Just be ready when he gets here. I have no idea what state he's going to be in."

At that moment Snape clutched his arm and swore loudly.

-:-

Echoing cracks resounded around the graveyard as a dozen or so figures flashed into existence. As one they walked forwards and formed a circle around Voldemort, Valmortis, Harry and Fleur. Harry counted them and as Valmortis joined their number there were fifteen in total. His heart sank slightly in his chest. How was he supposed to escape fifteen Death Eaters _and_ Voldemort?

Slowly and with measured words, Voldemort began talking. He spoke individually to each of the Death Eaters, sometimes a few words, sometimes several seconds of quiet conversation. When he reached a large gap in the circle he spoke loudly.

"Here we have seven absent members of our host. Four reside within Azkaban; they will be freed and lauded with great praise for their devotion. One remains where We have left him, the greatest of Our inner circle; he will come when We call him personally later. One is in question and will be brought to order. The last has left Our service forever and we will shall hunt him down. Those of you who have come, tell Us. Why are you free? Why did you not go to Azkaban with your brothers and sisters? Where was your pride when you were questioned? It matters little; We are gracious, We forgive."

Finally he turned to Harry and the young man flinched as those soulless orbs peered into his own.

"You have become a great interest to Us Harry. You are stubborn, brave, and noble; Gryffindor traits. Yet, you are loyal and hardworking, traits of Hufflepuff. You are intelligent and studious, Ravenclaw traits. Finally, and most importantly, you are intuitive, ambitious, and filled with cunning and wily talent, traits of Our ancestor, the mighty Slytherin."

He took a long slow breath that seemed to be measured against some unknown timepiece.

"You have also been the receptacle for part of Our soul for fifteen years, We who have gone beyond the call of nature to escape death, We who have put in place the greatest of safeguards against mortality. It was of happy and unexpected coincidence that We tried to kill you with the killing curse that night. Luck had it that We were saved from falling back to our predetermined safeguards. And yet it has been a dual-edged blade. We were trapped on this plane, devoid of company, of loyalty, of fellowship. We fled east to the shadowy forests of Albania where few fear to tread. We bided Our time for an opportune moment to strike. That moment is now, and here We are today, returned to health by your graces."

He stopped and gave a somewhat mocking bow to Harry who felt like spitting in the dirt.

"But while We have grown strong, so too have you my doppelganger. We think it only fitting that your death, the last part of this sacrosanct ritual, be a contest of that strength. Give the boy his wand, and free him from his bonds."

That was what Harry had been hoping for, Voldemort's arrogance and hubris to come out and play. He was freed from his ties and got to his feet gingerly, picking up his wand as he went.

"Ah, now Harry you have a wound, let Us fix that for you. Wouldn't want people to believe We're taking advantage of you now. And you must introduce Us to your mate. She is truly a unique creature, and We do believe she gave Us back Our magic. Tell Us Harry, what is the half breed's name?"

Harry couldn't believe his luck. He was worried about how he was going to run on his leg but when Voldemort's magic cleansed and knitted the wound he couldn't help but feel triumphant. The question asked of him however made him rebel against speaking. But for the moment he complied.

"Her name is Fleur Delacour."

He thought it stupid to lie. Valmortis already knew her name and it wouldn't have been hard to discover the name of a Tri-wizard champion anyway.

"Very good Harry. I assure you that she will be left to go home to her family tonight. We do not desire her death. You on the other hand...you must die. We must observe the niceties now. A formal duel We believe would be appropriate. You have been taught to duel, have you not?"

Harry's mind was racing; he would be lucky to survive two seconds against Voldemort. He would have to blast his way back through the ring of spectators and make a break for it. Grimly he nodded to the featureless face of his opponent and said in a measured tone.

"I believe we bow."

Laughter rang up around the ring of spectators at Harry's perceived insolence. But Voldemort seemed humour him.

"Indeed we do Harry. We bow, and then we begin."

It was fast, brutal, and Harry wasn't quite sure he would ever be able to relate the exact circumstances of how he managed to get out of the circle. Voldemort fired a _Cruciatus_ at Harry immediately and to his great surprise Harry blocked the spell on his duellist's shield. Angered, Voldemort struck out with more wrath.

What followed was the most intense duel of Harry's life. It lasted a touch under a minute and had it not been for Fleur's magic coursing through his veins he would have been slaughtered rather quickly, but together they were able to survive.

The flurries of spells and sorcels between them were intense. Harry stuck mostly to sorcels as he had better control over them and didn't have a particularly huge mental library of spells. But what he lacked in creativity he made up for in speed and power. Voldemort was clearly unused to having a physical body and it showed. His casting, while deadly, was slightly clumsy and sluggish, sluggish for a post-human entity that is.

Fleur was an incredible help; she was able to push her magic through Harry's wand, casting her own sorcels alongside his. It made up for the difference between Harry and Voldemort just barely. A moment came, nearly a minute in, where Voldemort over-extended; confident in his ability to win, in that exact moment he moved in an awkward motion trying to pin Harry down, and at that same moment Harry threw his whole energy into his wand, powering a great blasting sorcel toward his foe.

Their spells connected in mid-air and with a golden flash connected both wands. Harry felt a harsh tug on his magic and suddenly he was flying backwards through the air, tumbling head over heels. He was dimly aware of Voldemort flying backwards as well. When he landed, near the graveyard gate, he heard a shout of anger and looked up to see Valmortis, face bared at last to reveal the sallow features of Tyseus Krum, gripping Fleur by the collar and facing Harry.

He was too far away to exchange words but the meaning was clear, they found out, somehow, about their link. Fleur panicked and tried to retreat from their bond but it was too late. A green flash filled the cemetery and Harry felt Fleur's mind go dead as her body limply fell to the ground.

Harry felt numb as his body slumped against the cemetery wall. He felt Fleur's consciousness slip into the void and it left a gaping hole in Harry's mind. Numbly he got to his feet and vaulted over the wall, acting on autopilot as sorcels and spells blasted all around him. The moment his feet touched the ground he muttered the word 'freedom' under his breath and vanished from the graveyard, a gaping wound in his heart and mind.

-:-

AN3: Ah… Yes, I think I'll go hide from the hurled rotten tomatoes now. One more chapter to go, hope people can stomach this one.

AN4: A lot was revealed here, and yet a still feel like I've missed things, the last chapter will wrap up anything that I've missed here so if you have any questions about things I've mentioned but not resolved flick them to me in a review/pm whatever and I'll do my best to sort them out.

This was the hardest chapter to write, for obvious reasons. I must have rewritten the rape scene four or five times, and the graveyard was a nightmare of continuity to maintain. But hopefully I've pulled everything together coherently for you.

AN5: Review Responses:

RandomOmens: Ahhh But all good cliff hangers should. I hope this meets expectations.

Dark Lelouch: A curious thought the idea of Harry consuming Val or Vol (My shorthand nicknames for them), it's not explicit but there are good reasons why he really shouldn't but they probably won't be handled till the sequel. Also, sorry, no he could do nothing for Fleur.

DarkOw: Not so much for love. I hope this resolved some of the apparent transparency of what happened. As for the maze and it's dangers? Frankly after a dragon they were always going to get away with anything.

Shukokage: Ahhh thankyou, nice to know someone appreciated it!

Vegasman: Out of curiousity, who were you expecting as a traitor?

Josepheus: Thank you! I hope this suits.

Anotherboarduser: I'm a touch saddened by your review, surely by now you must have realized I had something more in depth in store than "Fleur's fed up" or "Fleur's evil". I dearly hope this allays your issues with the previous twist.

Wrestlefreak: Um. I'm sorry but I have no idea what you're talking about. Thank you for Reviewing, but do try to use English next time.

Cateagle: Haha, thankyou! I'm always happy to hear what I come up with makes sense.

Beyondthesea: This should answer those questions of yours! Hopefully this is a good crescendo for the story arc.

Darkheart: Well now you know ^.^ No one seemed to expect that from Fleur… I don't know if I foreshadowed too little or just the right amount. Eh, it worked for me.

Lightskiller: Had to come sometime. With Moody as well…. Moody, not the imposter, someone had to get Harry into the maze, and who better than a talented friend?

Sixstringsamurai: Ah… Yes well I might have based that particular passage off of personal experience. Also… I'm so sorry Fleur had to die, but remember this was a tragedy :/

LordNemisis: Ah… My first flame. Feels like progress, anyone of my loyal minions want to throw out the trash?

Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me thus far, thanks for reading and reviewing and other wonderful shenanigans. We're nearly at the end now, just one more chapter. Then you'll all have to wait for the sequel Mwahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa

Seriously though, thanks to everyone, especially my loyal reviewers who've given me constant feedback and my ever reliable Beta Texan-Muggle who has done such a wonderful job cleaning up these last few chapters for public consumption.

The next and last chapter: Bittersweet dawn, will cover the events after the maze and the last few days of term, the train ride home and perhaps a day or two of holidays. See you all soon for the final instalment.

LGreymark.


	19. Bittersweet Dawn

An: As previous, JKR has it all. *cries silently in the corner*

An2: Let's just get on with it shall we? Note, a bit of gore and decidedly unpleasant spellcasting fairly early on. The rest is more of a big emotional wrap up with a touch more unpleasantness towards the end.

-:-

Chapter Eighteen: Bittersweet Dawn

Breath shuddered into gasping lungs as Harry collapsed onto the pavestones of the castle's front gates. He felt pain shoot up his legs as the skin on his knees split open at the impact, and he hurriedly braced himself against the cold stone as he pitched forwards, his forearms taking the brunt of the sudden stop.

He felt winded and empty; a part of him was missing, a gaping void that he never knew if he could fill. He had never loved Fleur like he loved Hermione, there was no passion there. But the sense of loss he felt for his friend was profound. His emotions had been on a roller coaster those last few hours; the maze, Victor cursing him, the kidnapping, Fleur's betrayal and the subsequent rape that still left him feeling sullied, then the bond between himself and Fleur, the explanation, the graveyard, the escape, Fleur's death.

All of it had left him drained and empty, begging in his mind for Hermione's embrace. Not simply her physical presence but the mental and emotional balm of her mind. He needed to lose himself in her, to forget the pain so that he could recover, or at least to share it and lighten the load.

Harry felt his tired limbs give out and he surrendered to the pull of gravity, laying himself down clumsily against the chilly pavestones. He lay there, face down on the ground, his energy spent and the massive surge of magical energy from Fleur was rapidly leaving his veins. He struggled to hold on to it, a last reminder of her sacrifice.

His disgust at her actions welled up within him once more; he couldn't forgive her, even in death, for what she had done to him. He could feel in the back of his mind the gaping wound where their bond had been; it was painful and raw, leaking energy like a scabbed wound seeps pus and blood.

He had no idea how long he lay there, his body wracked with shivers and starts as it slowly recuperated from his ordeal. Before he could truly pull himself together though, there was a rush of warmth and suddenly _she_ was there. He didn't hesitate even for a merest of moments as he flung himself into their bond; the one thing that still worked in his battered mind was the desire to be with her. Her loving thoughts swept around him, holding his nearly broken mind together. His last conscious thought was of thanks and love for the mate of his heart.

"Thank you Hermione."

"I love you Harry, sleep now, we can talk when you wake."

So sleep he did.

-:-

The hospital wing was dark and cold. Hermione was used to it though; she had spent many sleepless nights in the fourth floor complex in vigil over her beloved. She was currently curled around him, his arm wrapped around her in sleep and it gave her the deepest sense of warmth she could remember ever experiencing. He was here, he was safe. She let out a rattling sigh against his chest as she ran through her mind all that had happened to him.

It was torture, plain and simple really. She didn't have to do this to herself, constantly reliving everything that had happened, but there was some perverse need to keep everything fresh and raw. As if her mind needed her to be truly thankful for having the man she loved in her arms. Over Harry's chest she could see her mother and father on the next cot over; they had become exhausted quickly, unused to the sheer amount of magic in the air around the school and had needed to rest. She didn't blame them; she could remember the first few nights she had spent at Hogwarts vividly. Strange room and even stranger roommates aside, the sheer amount of energy in the air had worn her out completely.

Harry was another story altogether, she knew full well the amount of energy he had expended in his duel with Voldemort that would cause exhaustion in any ordinary wizard. But the fact that he was also going through withdrawal from the massive power surge he had received from Fleur as her last sacrifice was probably exacerbating the issue.

Gently she cupped Harry's cheek with her hand, fondly brushing her thumb over his slightly stubbly skin and smiling down at him. It was so good to have him safe, but at the same time she frowned. It was not completely the same Harry who had come back to her. She knew her Harry intimately, perfectly. He was lighter now, seemingly free of some burden upon himself despite Fleur's death and the resurrection of Voldemort.

And his appearance, however subtly, had changed. His eyes, no longer that venomous shade of green, had settled into a more striking forest hue that was far warmer than ever she could remember. And his hair, once so messy it could barely be controlled, was now laying limp on his head. It looked far longer than she could remember as well; perhaps the straightness of it was exaggerating the illusion.

If she had not been bonded to Harry she would have cried foul; this was not her man, surely it was an imposter. But the truth of the matter lay within his mind; the young man thought like Harry, had Harry's memories, his emotions, his logic, his humour; it was all sitting there, waiting to be brought forth. There was also a gaping wound in his mind that she nervously probed, a wound that was already healing, and had been rapidly all night. She estimated that it would be healed within the next few hours fully, the last remnant of Fleur Delacour.

Suddenly finding it hard to breathe as her throat closed involuntarily she let out a strangled sob before sinking forwards to rest her head against his midriff, tears falling down her cheeks to soak into the bed sheets. Everything came rushing back, her betrayal, and Harry's rape. She cried for his loss, for everything that had happened to him. She had dreamed of their wedding night, of giving themselves to each other and sealing their love.

She knew, logically speaking, and from a magical perspective, that the magically enforced rape couldn't break their bond; it would require Harry actively cheating on her to accomplish that, not that he ever would. But emotionally Hermione was battling with her own sense of jealousy, loss, betrayal, even grief over Fleur's death. It was all so confusing; one moment she was their friend, next a traitor, then a rapist, then the victim. She didn't know how to handle it and for the second time that evening broke down completely, sobbing her heart out against Harry's sleeping form.

She had no idea how long she was there, weeping into the bed sheets. But after an indeterminate amount of time she felt her hair be brushed back from her face and tucked behind her ear. Then, before she could look up to meet the person with her gaze she felt a strong set of arms wrap around her and tug her onto the bed before wrapping her closely in their embrace.

Harry was awake; she twisted in his arms to lock her eyes to his, that warm green gaze that had melted her heart previously now set it positively thrumming with joy. Unconsciously she reached out and slid her hand into his locks, running her fingers through his hair, not knowing what to say she went with the first thing that came to mind.

"You're going to need a haircut."

The rueful smile she got in return was more than she could ever ask for; it was balm to her injured soul, it was the healing that she desperately needed, it was the reassurance that everything was going to work out. They still had each other and their parents; they would make it through this, they would endure.

-:-

Deep in the valley where stood five and fifty iron stakes, embedded within the skeletons and rotting bodies of the dead, stood a man. Two figures really; one was a man, the other...he was something else. The something else, he was clad in billowing robes of blackest night, gossamer thin and yet opaque like shadows. The man next to him was clad in robes of plain black wool, simple, unassuming. They stood before one of the latest of their victims; a young woman with a four-inch-thick iron stake shoved through her chest.

Fog suffused the valley. It was thick and cloying, like a musk of death that was infused with the sickeningly sweet smell of decay. The two figures were talking, one in a low smooth voice that seemed to invite calmness, the other in a voice that begat madness and would not do for repeating. It was of course, Lord Voldemort and Tyseus Krum, otherwise known in England as Valmortis; on the continent he was known by another name entirely, but that too does not bear repeating.

The young woman was well and truly dead; her skin had the sickly pallor of death about it and her eyes, usually so bright and vibrant were lifeless and cold.

"He escaped Our clutches Valmortis. We hope We will not have to regret trusting you in the future. Still, the boy has to die."

Valmortis seemed to twitch at the mild rebuke, he was well aware that he was the reason Potter had escaped; he should have had Peter put the Veela in ropes himself, and silenced her to boot. The half-breed's plan had been obvious from the moment he had tried to reassert dominance over her; there was no magic to connect to, it was all being siphoned off by the young man at the edge of the cemetery.

"I apologise, my lord; having never performed that particular ritual before I had no idea it would so strip my enchantments of their potency." Bowing his head in shame he said slowly, "I supplicate myself to your whim, my master."

"That shall not be necessary Tyseus; in truth We could have warned you of that aspect of the ritual beforehand. In hindsight it seems foolish for Us to have trusted Pettigrew with that responsibility. In the meantime, what, Our servant, are all these hideous stakes for? We approve of the killings, most certainly, and you have been busy, but they do so horrendously mar the approach to the house of Our forebears."

Lord Voldemort's tone was flat and unconcerned, at least the most audible of his voices was. Another was shrieking the words hysterically in a completely different cadence that was just on the limit of audible speech. Another was droning them like a sermon, yet another still was muttering them over and over, rapidly and maddeningly. All these voices overlapped and the most audible often shifted, though for the moment the somewhat bored one seemed to be holding court.

Valmortis' reply was in a tone meant for the worship of gods, yet there was a mocking, humorous quality to it that seemed to be only just held in check, as if it were about to burst forth in to riotous cackling.

"My first master taught me many things, my lord. The greatest thing he taught me, however, was preparation. Watch now my master, as I bring forth the fruits of our labours!_ ANIMATUM__MORTUS EST__!_"

The chanted invocation was in Latin, but underlying the incantation was a thread of speech seemingly outside of mortal comprehension and incanted in a voice that was decidedly _off_ and out of focus. Above them the young woman's skin sloughed off in great sheets, followed unceremoniously by her flesh, which fell in great gobbets to the ground as if pulped by a great and unwieldy hammer.

Brown hair pooled at Valmortis' feet as he twisted his wand. Organs fell from the corpse's rib cage and splattered wetly on the gravel, flecks of blood and viscera lightly speckling the hem of Valmortis' robes. Over them, all that was left of the body of the once beautiful young woman, a skeleton still red with viscera, began to shuffle and creak on its perch.

Lord Voldemort watched with an alien expression as the collection of bones wrenched itself free of the stake before falling the distance to the ground. Landing lithely it stood to full height, the ribs damaged by the stake's intrusion already knitting together. Through the fog, more skeletal shapes could be seen, moving in a collective smooth gait that belied the extreme power behind the incantation to animate them.

Before long five and fifty skeletons were lined up before them in ordered ranks whole, unblemished and ready for whatever nefarious purpose they were meant for. Before the feet of the two figures was another corpse. It was the body of a strikingly beautiful young woman, her silvery blond hair splayed out on the grassy berm. Valmortis gestured to the assembled horde.

"The runic stakes have been preserving these corpses for months, imbuing them with the power of the land. Now they are ready to serve you in whatever capacity you require, my lord. There is one final thing however, that I can do to strike fear into the hearts of our foes. May I ask you for a drop of your blood my lord?"

Voldemort looked at the man askance before extending one extremely pale and long finger.

"And what would you need Our blood for, Our servant?"

Tyseus looked directly at Voldemort then, invoking the old customs of respect and honesty by doing so.

"As this Veela's pure blood was instrumental in your rebirth as a magical living being, a god among men, so can your tainted blood resurrect this magical creature into a shade of her former self; a true undead."

Voldemort's lips curled back in a demonic smile as he uttered a single word.

"Nosferatu"

-:-

The morning dawned bright and the two teenage inhabitants of the hospital wing saw it in from the window sill, Harry sitting against it with Hermione leaning back in his arms happily relaxing against his toned chest. They were smiling, despite everything, despite the coming conflict, despite the loss of a friend, despite the horrors inflicted upon Harry, despite the return of their most hated foe. They were happy, they had each other. And the love they shared eclipsed the horrors to come.

It was probably not rational; it was probably not even wise to be happy in spite of it all. A certain amount of discretion would normally be advisable; a period of mourning perhaps, maybe even a healthy dose of fear. They were concerned, certainly, and well aware of the trouble to come. But since Harry had woken up they had been irrepressibly happy. Rejoicing in each other's safety and continued livelihood, they basked in their love for one another.

Together during the night they were able to push aside the hurt, the suffering, and were currently revelling in the sensations of their bond once more. The coming day was going to be hectic; they both knew this with certainty as there were questions to be answered, people to confront, memories to be shared, information to be distributed.

Dumbledore had apparently already left for London that night after getting a briefing from Hermione after she had briefly scanned Harry's memories to refresh her own and ensure she had the details. He had been in a closed session with the Wizengamot for over six hours now and she knew he was fighting to have the return of Voldemort recognized publically by the stubborn head of state. Her parents had woken briefly not ten minutes before, and immediately headed back home via floo to open their practise for the morning, promising that the two of them would meet the teens at King's Cross station the following afternoon when the Express arrived. Several minutes of intense reunion amongst the strange family had been something of an emotional experience for Harry, who had never had something of the like before after one of his adventures. Harry's voice snapped Hermione out of her musings.

"You saved me last night sweetheart."

Hermione's breath hitched, they hadn't talked about the events of last night, Harry understanding that Hermione had already shared his memories of the event so that he didn't have to relive them to bring her up to speed.

"How did I do that love?"

Harry's answer reinforced in Hermione's mind the vague thoughts she had been having lately regarding adding another layer of the official nature to their relationship.

"Every memory I had of you, I brought to the surface last night, every single one, the good, the bad, the ugly." He winked at her slyly knowing she loved the spaghetti western.

"I remembered everything about you, everything who made you, you. I brought to the fore every scrap of knowledge I had about the woman known by the name Hermione Jean Granger. I recreated you inside my mind love; you were there with me that night, as I imagined you urging me to stay sane, to stay with you, to stay alive. You're the reason I'm here today to talk about this."

"I love you Harry."

"I love you too Hermione. You think we should get breakfast now? I think Madam Pomfrey would be happy to be shot of me."

Hermione smiled, her lips twitching up in the familiar pattern she knew Harry loved. Gently easing away from his embrace she linked their hands and nodded towards the door.

"We'd best get on with it if we want to get down there before it's all gone then. Are you sure you're ready to face the rest of the school?"

She watched proudly as Harry nodded and leaned forwards to press a firm kiss on her forehead.

"Absolutely I am. I want to show Malfoy that I'm not cowed by this; he won't be able to tell his father I'm hiding, moping or broken. I'm strong so long as I have you with me, and I'll be damned if I'll let them think I'm beaten."

She reached up on her tiptoes, a recent development with his growth spurt, to press a firm kiss on the smooth unblemished skin where the most prominent physical change had taken place: The loss of his scar.

"Shall we my love?"

"We shall."

-:-

The Great Hall was noisy and filled with the usual crowd of chattering teenagers when Harry and Hermione wandered in. Hermione had her arm around Harry's waist subtly supporting him as he was still somewhat weak on the leg that had been filled with acromantula venom not so long before; the long-lasting paralytic and nerve inflamer was a nasty concoction that, while not fatal, was still unpleasant to deal with. Even when magically flushed the body still suffered the effects of the virulent toxins.

All fell quiet as the two meandered to their seats on the Gryffindor benches and Harry was distinctly aware of hundreds of pairs of eyes on him. Warily he grabbed a discarded Prophet from the table to see the damage and almost immediately groaned in annoyance. The Prophet was up to its usual business and had done a fantastic job of insinuating that Harry had orchestrated his inclusion in the tournament to gain even more fame. Apparently he wasn't skilled enough to win via normal methods so he had planned for the death of the other competitors to ensure his victory.

Harry felt a stab of annoyance about the article before raising an eyebrow to Hermione who shrugged.

"Fudge is refusing Dumbledore's assertion that Voldemort is back; the headmaster asked me to ask you if you'd submit a memory of the event for testimony."

Harry rolled his shoulders back to rid himself of a crick there before nodding slowly.

"I guess so, people need to know don't they? No point us all running around like headless chooks."

He was rewarded by a brief but firm kiss from his beloved before the two settled into their meal, pointedly ignoring the surrounding students. A few minutes later Fred and George sat across from them, not saying anything but not staring at them either, their support clear. Neville sat on Harry's right a few moments later and nodded to him.

Harry couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude to the three young men who were obvious in their steadfast support of him, not to mention Hermione who had stood by his side year long. Bitterly, Harry remembered the beginning of the year and his insertion into the tournament against his will, and the circumstances surrounding it. He supposed people in general must have short memories if they had already forgotten that Harry had been incapacitated during the time where people could submit their names to the Goblet of Fire.

A thought struck him and he turned back to Hermione with a grim expression. "The article claims I'm the only surviving member of the tournament, what happened to Krum?"

Harry watched with concern as Hermione blanched.

"He committed suicide last night."

Harry felt bile rise in his throat as he desperately tried to shove those thoughts from his mind. There was no need to mull _that_ over. Apparently Hermione had noticed his thoughts and slid her arm around his waist again before kissing his cheek softly.

"Don't think now love, just eat your breakfast and we'll retire to your rooms. Classes have been cancelled and we'll be going home on the Express tomorrow morning."

Harry leaned into her embrace as he chewed a mouthful of eggs. Swallowing he asked with a touch of amusement, "What about exams? Surely we still need to get that out of the way, right love?"

Hermione shot him an amused glare before replying., "Our scores are being approximated based on our previous achievements during the year. As they aren't OWLs or NEWTs it isn't essential that we actually sit them."

Harry smirked before turning his head to whisper in her ear, "But you'd still rather be taking them right?"

Grinning Hermione turned to him and pressed another firm kiss to his lips which he relished for the short moments they were joined.

"Honestly I'd rather be spending the time with you."

Harry couldn't have been happier as they returned to their room.

-:-

Hermione could feel Harry retreating back into his shell as they sat in front of the fire in the champions' suite, wearing a pair of warm trousers and a simple button down shirt, their robes hanging in their room; Hermione was wearing a skirt and blouse. The stress of the year had dissipated and Harry was watching the flames with an expression Hermione knew well. He was being reminded of the fact that only he remained of the four people who had been officially sharing these five rooms. Cedric's bedroom door had disappeared months ago when his family had reclaimed his effects. But Fleur and Krum's rooms still existed, filled with all too present reminders of the young woman and the young man who had been living there.

Despite the fact that Victor had been under the _Imperius_ all year and Fleur had been, albeit inadvertently, a traitor, Hermione knew that Harry had formed real bonds with those two and his brief if stiff friendship with Cedric had been a hard thing for him to let go. She knew full well that Harry was still grieving for Fleur; she had been a real and true friend to them all year. Despite the machinations behind the relationship she had shared with the two younger teens she had still been there for them as a friend and confidant.

Hermione knew she wasn't ready to grieve for Fleur yet. Too much was riding on the Veela's shoulders; too many events still clouded Hermione's memory of the witch. Harry on the other hand had been bonded to her, however briefly, and Hermione knew from experience what such a link would have entailed. Harry would be going through the full effects of grief for someone he had shared the most intimate of links with, physically and emotionally.

Hermione felt a tear roll down her cheek as she considered that, whatever the circumstances, Harry had lost his virginity to the French Veela; had lost something that he had been saving for Hermione, for their wedding night. Dimly she was aware of Harry's arms slipping around her waist and cuddling her close to him as she sobbed into his shirt. They stayed there, silent but emotional for several moments as Hermione purged this latest affliction from her soul.

She gasped in surprise as she felt Harry's mind sweep through her own, blowing away her sadness in a hurricane of love and devotion. She became aware of his breath brushing over her lips as he bent down to her, fisting her hands in his shirt she begged him in their minds to close the distance. She gasped against his lips as he obliged, plunging them both into a passionate kiss. There was no sense of dominance between them; Hermione gave as well as she got and they surrendered to each other equally, reaffirming their love for one another.

She gasped as they parted, panting under her breath and as she locked gazes with Harry, her eyes fluttering open, she saw within him the same love and devotion that she felt welling up within herself for him. Throwing herself into his arms she clung to him, desperate for confirmation of his safety, his love.

"I nearly lost you last night my love."

The words were abrupt and clipped, a sign of Hermione's deep emotions. "When you disappeared from that maze, when I lost all contact to you…it was terrifying, I had no idea where you were, if I would ever see you again, be held by you, feel your mind with my own. I was desperate for any news, any news at all. I fell apart Harry."

She felt his arms cinch around her with the firm loving grip that she so adored. Sighing softly she sank into his embrace, taking comfort in the warmth of his form.

-:-

Hours passed slowly as the two teens talked quietly about what had happened in the last day or so, finding it to be something of a purging experience for them both; they shared their love as Harry flushed the poison of grief from his system. Hermione raised several questions, some of which Harry could answer, some he couldn't; the biggest one was wondering why they would give Fleur a portkey to be free. Harry's reply shot her through with worry.

"I don't think they expected their bonds on Fleur to break when the ritual was performed. I think they were going to make her a sort of spy, breaking her Veela nature when I died so that they could lock her under the _Imperius_. I don't know of course; who knows if they could even do that. But I guess it's possible."

Hermione frowned at Harry's hesitant assertion. It was by no means a certainty, but at the same time it wasn't too far-fetched; nothing was really after the previous night. They had migrated back into their chambers at some point in the discussion and Hermione sat nestled between Harry's legs leaning against his chest with his arms looped around her waist in a possessive manner that sent warm tingles through her midriff every time they shifted. Her hands rested on his arms, tracing little circles on his hands or stroking his forearms tenderly. She sat there, cuddled up against him, for several moments as she considered his words. Eventually she shrugged.

"I don't think there's much use in speculation at this point love. We just have to be ready for when things hit the fan, as I'm sure they will soon enough. You and I both know full well that there's something no one is telling us, some reason he went after you when you were just a little boy. It's the reason he's going to come after you again, and I'll be damned if you're unprepared when he does. I need you mister."

She twisted in his arms slightly to fix him with a concerned look. "Without Fleur you had no chance against him, love. I know it's hard to get your head around but there has to be something we can do to prepare you; training, some equivalent of magical weightlifting, you know?"

She watched as a pall fell over his expression countenance and her expression softened further as she stroked his cheek tenderly with one hand.

"I don't mean to make you less than you are, love; you're a wonderful man, and a powerful wizard. But that faceless bastard isn't even human; there's no shame in admitting you need help."

Harry's head dropped down at that, his shoulders slumping slightly as he pressed his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. The rough tone of his voice gave truth to his words.

"It was the most terrifying experience I've ever had. There was nothing between him and me except that tenuous veil of magic, nothing between me and the grave but sheer instinct. I don't think I could tell you what spells I cast or sorcels I used from moment to moment. What I can tell you is that he is truly inhuman, he didn't ever bother to dodge a single attack of mine; he parried absolutely everything by batting the spells and sorcels to the sides. The only thing I can be proud of is that he never overran any of my attacks. I was holding my own. But even then the only reason I could do so was because of Fleur's power and her casting through my own wand."

Hermione breathed deeply of his scent, taking stock of the situation before letting out a long breath. Briefly closing her eyes before opening them again to centre herself she made her own statement.

"You have one more thing to be proud of, you stood up to him. You fought him to a standstill. Fleur or no Fleur that was you; Fleur gave you endurance certainly, and maybe sped up your own casting by increasing the casts per second you could produce . But nothing that came out of that wand of yours was anything more than you can achieve, my love. You are a sorcerer, a powerful wizard. You've got more power locked within that beautiful body of yours than anyone I've ever read about. You just have to train, learn, and above all, live. You have to if only so that you have something to come home to, a reason to fight him, a reason to live."

She felt her breath catch in her throat once more as Harry's eyes did that smouldering thing that was just so _unfair._

"I already have something to come home to, my love; you. Mum and dad, our future together. All of it is there for me to drive me not just to beat this, but to win."

Grinning Hermione leaned forward and captured his lips for a loving but chaste kiss.

"Then we'll just have to get you some help so that you can, right? Do you think Professor Moody might be willing to tutor you?"

"We can only but hope."

-:-

Harry knew full well that he should feel more broken by what had happened the previous night; he should be inconsolable, broken even, by the loss of his friend, his rape, the return of his enemy. But Hermione, bless her soul, refused to let him fall into that despair. She took him down to Moody's office; they requested, and were given promise of, help over the summer. She then took him down to the lake and kissed him till he couldn't tell up from down.

They avoided Dumbledore. The idea of being within arm's reach of the headmaster was one that brought up a boiling pit of anger within Harry; one that he knew would spill over into violence if it wasn't contained. How could all of this have happened within Dumbledore's purview? How could the sprites have gotten into the lake? The device planted in the dragon's cornucopia, the events in the maze? How could any of it have happened?

When he raised these questions to Hermione she added one to the stack that he hadn't considered; how could he have allowed Harry's name to be placed in the Goblet of Fire? Harry had no idea how it could have happened; he was sure that Krum's older brother could have easily accomplished the feat, being taught by Grindlewald was sure to have given the man a few tricks. But how could Dumbledore have let it happen?

Everything had come back to Harry in those hours; the years of abuse and torment, the painful scars that refused to heal completely on his back. The welts on his wrists where he had been tied to the doorframe were especially raw as they had been reopened by the manacles on his wrists the previous night. The terrors he had faced in his first and second years, the dementors, arguably a greater terror in and of themselves. All of it fell squarely on Dumbledore's shoulders and for the first time in months Harry was angry, not just at the aged headmaster but at the system that had allowed him to gain so much power.

Why was it that one man could hold the highest office of power in the judiciary system, the International Confederation of Wizards, and be the headmaster of a school all at the same time? There was something horrifically wrong going on in the wizarding world; the prejudice against Muggle-raised students, muggleborns and halfblood alike. It wasn't just in the schools either; the social stigma against them that had been written into law. It was all a sick twisted power trip for the purebloods and Harry was adamant that if given half a chance he would set things to rights.

Once again Harry was reminded of the conversation he and Hermione had had earlier in the year about leaving all of thisthe magical world behind and living as Muggles; never before had that been so appealing. And yet he knew, in the pit of his very being, that even if he ran from this world, it would still find him, still torture him and his family with pain and torment for years to come. No, running was not the answer. Voldemort was a bully, far removed from schoolyard hijinks, but a bully nonetheless, and bullies do not back down when given submission; no, they feed on such things. The only way to deal with a bully is to stand up to one. And Harry knew that one day, he would have to stand on his own two feet against this threat.

It was a good thing he made that decision, because it would be all too soon that things would come to a head.

-:-

The day had worn on and the school was getting ready to head home. Gryffindor tower was especially quiet and Hermione couldn't remember a time when it was so subdued. Harry and Hermione had decided to spend their last night in the tower, socializing with those of their house. They would sleep together in Harry's room that night, and in the morning they would go home.

Currently Hermione and her beau were sitting on one of the squashy couches in the common room, surrounded by friends; Neville, the twins and their friend Lee, Seamus, Lavender, Parvarti, the rest of the Quidditch team and several more people who they had formed loose bonds with over the years. Hermione was amazed that so many were still loyal to Harry. The Hufflepuffs had finally shown their true colours and had offered their support.

Many of the Ravenclaws had pointed out that they knew full well Harry hadn't entered himself in the tournament and that he wasn't worldly enough to orchestrate such a scheme as to murder three other young men and women. Tracy and Daphne had each given the young Gryffindor a hug out near the lake with Hermione watching on, tearfully reminding him that not all in silver and green were callous and cruel. Hermione had been particularly surprised by this; however, it seemed that those two in particular had been harbouring crushes on Harry for a long time and had beseeched Hermione to keep him safe.

From beside her Harry spoke softly through the silence surrounding them, breaking her out of her reverie as he was so prone to doing. Briefly she scanned his mind and approved of his coming words.

"This is the beginning. It is a beginning of something far greater than any of us have ever seen. Powerful implacable forces are moving, terror is rising all around us. Threats will lurk in the shadows, waiting for us to step out of line so that they can strike. This year Professor Moody taught us how to defend ourselves, us Gryffindors; we've been some of the most receptive to his teachings, maybe me more than others, but I've seen huge strides from all of you."

Hermione felt herself swelling with pride for her man as he looked around the room, all eyes now on him. Each person he locked gazes with, held the challenge.

"This isn't a game any longer; it's not just classwork, it isn't even about OWLs and NEWTs. From now on this is about survival; it's about keeping ourselves safe, our families safe. It's about showing the shadows around us that even in the darkest of times there can be light. Next year I'm going to be practising every day, sorcery, spell-weaving, enchantment, defensive magic. Anyone who wants to join me is welcome, and from the darkness we'll come out from this in one piece. I'll be offering the same to the other houses. Unity, in the face of all that is before us, is far more valuable than house pride."

He took a breath and Hermione squeezed his hand in tacit support. She knew how desperately he hated the spotlight and how hard this must be for him.

"From now on you aren't my housemates. You're not my classmates, or roommates, or even just friends. Everyone who stands with me is my brother, or my sister. And into this darkness we shall march with heads held high, because we'll be ready for what's coming. Have a good holiday, all of you, and for those who want to join me, I'll see you first Saturday back from summer break in the champions' quarters. I've been experimenting and it seems it has a lot more to offer to us than just a place to sleep. Spread the word, Hogwarts is united again."

-:-

The night was cold, unseasonably so for summer. Harry wondered mildly if there was a malfunctioning cooling charm on the entire castle as despite the mid-day sun the castle was as chilly as ever when the sun went down. He and Hermione were curled up together in Harry's bed in the champions' quarters; he wasn't sure he would ever go back to Gryffindor tower, as this place had something of a homey feel to it now. He wondered idly how many others would take permanent lodgings in the seemingly limitless room.

He wasn't going to be able to sleep. He was comfortable certainly; despite the cold; the bed was warm and having Hermione's warm, soft body curled against his own was more than he could ever need to keep the cold at bay. He wasn't alone either; Hermione's eyes shone in the moonlight that still filtered through the one window the room had. Where that window was situated on the castle walls Harry would never be able to say; he had a feeling the room in which they resided was more magical than material and thus didn't follow the usual laws of matter.

He was laying on his back, his head propped up on a couple of pillows with Hermione's own head on his chest, one hand playing idly over his bare chest under the covers, her thigh hitched up over his waist. There was nothing sexual about their repose, although Harry was privately looking forward to spending time with his beloved back in their home at Oxford, naked time. Rather, their current situation was one of contemplation and deep thought, understanding and the baring of souls that only occurs in the wee hours betwixt midnight and the dawn. The train would be a fantastic place to get sleep tomorrow; there was no need to hurry to the realm of Morpheus tonight.

In the darkness of the cosy room Hermione's voice cut through the stillness. "I love you Harry, truly and without reserve. You are everything to me, sweetheart; you're the man I want to marry someday, nay, the man I _will_ marry someday. My life is yours to share."

Tears silently tracked down Harry's cheeks as the full impact of Hermione's words hit home, and the implications, both explicit and implied. She was promising herself to him, to stand by his side in even the darkest of times, never to be separate from him again. It was the best thing she possibly could have given him as a gift, that assurance of unending loyalty.

She wasn't done yet though. "I'm going to be your wife one day Harry, I'm going to be the mother of your children, the partner of your life and the equal head of your family alongside you. And nothing, not Voldemort, not Valmortis, not Albus sodding Dumbledore, can take me from you. You're safe my love."

And that was the crux of the matter, till those words Harry had been on edge, feeling the keen bite of the manacles, the horrific, traitorous warmth of Fleur's betrayal, the terror of facing an inhuman machine of magic and flesh made material. But here, behind the formidable wards of Hogwarts, in a room dedicated to his protection, in the arms of his one and only love, he was safe. His hand came up from its perch on the small of Hermione's back to clasp her shoulder to him firmly.

"I love you too Hermione."

He had no other words, no affirmations of loyalty or dedication that he could offer her; he was spent from the inside out and his very nature was exposed to her. He could only surrender himself utterly in the face of that unwavering love and beg for succour against the darkness. Somehow he was sure that she understood; in those five words he was sure that he somehow conveyed the length, depth and breadth of his feelings for her.

He was a humble spirit, not intentionally and took no especial pleasure from being such, but he was humble, and he was true. Never had he lied to his beloved, and never would he. Never would he shy away from her because she was all he could ever desire and hope for, let alone dream of having to himself. He was however possessive, dependent, and jealous; slow to anger, and slow to cool. His mind was built to form undying connections, love that never ceased, grudges that never waned, fury that never abated. He was human, flawed and weak like any other, but strong in his convictions, strong in his faith, both in his love and in his burgeoning relationship with a higher power.

That was the man Hermione had fallen in love with; a flawed, broken and fractured human being that she had pledged to help make whole again. And she knew him inside and out. There were no words needed for such times, because she already knew everything he could ever say to her; his whole being was open to her scrutiny, and never, not once, had she found him wanting.

That, more than anything gave Harry hope that he and the woman wrapped in his protective arms would survive the coming conflict.

-:-

"Where am I?"

Those three words echoed around the sunken dungeon like plaintive cries for help. They were confused and without direction, as if asked on instinct rather than true curiosity.

"Who am I?"

Those words were more definite, asked with a distinct note of fear, even terror, as if the answer to such a question would define the entire being of the questioner's character, would define the entire scope of their being. And somehow the supplicant knew that the answer would not be to their liking.

The voice was high pitched on the first request, but soft, a woman's voice. Despite this inherent fragility there was hardness to it, a note of pure iron that carried the day. On the second questioning however there was a distinct tone of sharpness; under all that worry, fear, and terror, there was a defiance, as if daring the answerer to give an unsatisfactory reply. Once more the voice rang out. This time there was true power in it, an unwavering demand that echoed coldly through the ill-defined space.

"Answer me, now."

The reply came from a voice equally high-pitched, yet sterner, harder; the voice of a man, poorly accented and cold.

"You are where you are supposed to be. Where you are meant to be, where you were born to be."

"Tell me more."

The request was inquisitive; now that it had a willing provider the source hungered for more knowledge to fill the gaping holes in its mind. The reply however was equally cold, distant and uncooperative as it had been before.

"You are where you are supposed to be. Where you are meant to be, where you were born to be."

Chains rattled, the source sought to move, to seek out the source of the voice and request a deeper explanation.

"Tell me more!"

The voice was no longer requesting, it was demanding, ordering even. Yet the response came again, measured and precise, cold and distant, high pitched and unfeeling.

"You are where you are supposed to be. Where you are meant to be, where you were born to be."

Hours passed, questions asked, and answered with the same measured response. In the corner of the cold cell-like dungeon a naked woman curled up against the wall, her skin a pale white, hair a mottled silvery grey, eyes pitch black, and teeth like razor sharp needles. No light entered the chamber, and for that the body was thankful; it didn't really have a concept of light, but when the word skittered through its wretched mind the creature shied away from it instinctively.

Had there been light, however, an observer would have seen a waif of a woman, eerily beautiful like a crow seen in the light of the moon on a cloudless night. Or crimson blood on purest virgin snow. The questions devolved into screams, then tears, and sobbing; eventually there was only silence from her, and yet the voice kept repeating in the same measured tone, that same sentence. Two words finally came from the pale imitation of a woman.

"I understand."

The reply was long in coming, but when it did come the woman sighed in relief, pleasure even at finally making progress.

"Good girl. Do you remember your name now?"

The woman frowned, thinking hard, eventually she said quietly, "No"

Five final words split the silence before it returned for a much longer time.

"Good, your name is Epine."

When at last Epine responded, it was with a quiet reverence that belied her thankfulness to the speaker.

"Why am I here?"

"To serve"

The final words that came from her mouth would have chilled the heart of any man; they were so filled with reverence and joy that it was unnatural.

"Thank you!"

-:-

The morning held a couple of surprises for the two teen; initially the biggest surprise was the arrival of Professor Dumbledore in their rooms after breakfast. Harry had nearly flown off the handle and attacked their illustrious headmaster there and then for everything that had happened. The only reason Hermione didn't join him was that she knew there had to be at least one of them in control to keep the other in line; she supposed today was her turn.

When Harry had calmed down and stopped throwing things, there had been a very frank discussion between the three of them about what had transpired in the maze and afterwards. Harry had given Dumbledore a memory of the events as evidence for the Wizengamot to try and sway public opinion and Dumbledore had revealed one final piece of information that had nigh on crippled Harry for some time.

He was destined to fight that monster. A prophecy had dictated since before he was even born that he would be the one to kill the Dark Lord, or be killed by him. It had been a hard pill to swallow and he had been insensate for many minutes afterwards. Dumbledore had left them at that point, promising to keep in touch over the holidays in respect to their summer training.

He never did mention why he had told them about the prophecy then, or even at all. But Hermione strongly suspected it was because his many mistakes were coming home to roost and the aging Headmaster was doing his best to mitigate any further damage that could occur. Not to mention prepare Harry for the coming events in his life.

The other surprise had come in the form of Fudge, who briefly appeared to hand Harry his winnings; the irony being that the same magic that had Harry bound into the tournament bound Fudge to pay Harry his winnings for the event despite the assumed circumstances of his victory. In a moment Hermione couldn't have scripted, Harry turned from the Minister and awkwardly pushed the sack of gold into the hands of the nearest person, unwilling to accept the reward. That person happened to be Fred Weasley, whose plans for the money, alongside those of his twin, would become legendary.

-:-

Emma Granger felt like her heart could burst as she held her adopted son in her arms. He had been through so much; torture, rape, betrayal, battle, injury, loss, it boggled her mind. But here he was, unyielding in spite of the difficulties of his life, unbending against the tide of dire suffering. And at his side was Hermione; Emma couldn't have been more proud of them both and planned to make sure they were reminded of just how proud she and Dan were of the pair each day.

Now that she had them back, part of Emma never wanted to let them go again; the school was dangerous, they hadn't had a single year without incident and she highly doubted that was going to stop any time soon. She wasn't sure of the exact details of what happened that night after the third task, but she knew something terrible had happened and there was something deeper hanging over the teens. She had a feeling that there would be many more difficult discussions in the near future, but for now, Harry needed her, and she would be damned if she wasn't there for him every step of the way.

The teens had found Emma sitting a fair distance from the portal to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters; she loathed being in the rush of students to suddenly erupt from the portal come time for them to head home. Hermione was confident with the station regardless, and they had an established meeting location to rendezvous before heading to the car for home. As Harry gently pulled away from her she held his shoulders warmly and looked into his forest green eyes. She had been a little shocked at the physical changes that had overcome the teen upon his return from the maze but had not shied away from him. Personally she thought the straighter hair and gentler eyes were more in line with his gentle but noble personality. And the fire that could be lit behind those green orbs in times of trouble was equal to his rancour when roused.

His eyes currently held the love and wonder that she had come to associate with his unfamiliarity to affection from adults, but behind that there was a tension she couldn't put her finger on. Quietly, but proudly, she spoke to him.

"I love you my son, and I'm proud of you and Hermione. You've been so strong, I couldn't be happier with you."

The tenderness that swept through his expression was mirrored on Hermione's face and Emma smiled softly before nodding to the exit.

"Shall we?"

-:-

Harry sat in his room in Oxford, a warm bundle of beautiful witch snuggled up against his chest as she slept in his arms. On his lap was a letter from Professor Moody detailing the initial lessons they should begin to practise together. He looked back at the year and realized that he had come a long way from the timid, shy boy who was beaten and abused. Through the trials of the school year he had been forged into a loving, caring, strong and confidant young man who was slightly jaded from his experiences.

He had experienced the lies surrounding him, the deceit of friends, family, enemies and neutrals. But he had equally experienced loyalty, from expected and unexpected places, from family and friends, and even those previously thought foes. The world was larger than ever before; across the Channel the French were rousing themselves to the tragedy of their own dying on British soil, the Great Russian bear was stirring in the east. The world was shifting, politics was coming to the fore, and battle lines are being drawn. The universe was centring itself on the coming conflict and a web of lies was spreading from Voldemort's domain to conceal his presence.

Harry's eyes were hard as he considered the deaths of those dear to him; his parents, Ron, Fleur, even Dean had been a friend. Cedric and Victor were gone, his childhood was lost. It was time for him to shrug off the shackles of youth, and to take on the mantle of adulthood. It wasn't something he was eager for, but as the young man gazed down softly at his beloved he couldn't help but reaffirm to himself that the world needed those who would stand up and do what was right, not what was easy. And besides...

When had his life ever been easy anyway?

-:-

An3: And here we are, the end of the story. It's been a long damn journey and I do apologise for the lateness of this chapter. But my lord was it hard to actually force myself to write! Some days I think I was subconsciously shying away from the idea of finishing this story for whatever reason -.-

I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck with me; My Beta Reader and editor Texan-muggle, a host of wonderful reviewers, and all of you who have seen, read, favorited, followed and otherwise endorsed my work.

This has been a somewhat emotional journey for me, not least of which because it's the first real project that I've ever finished, and I feel blessed that I could have such a wonderful group of (Dare I say it?) fans who've kept me going till this point.

An4: Review Responses:

JHarry: I've seen other people get annoyed about Alternate timeline stories not diverging enough from the canon timeline, but as most other authors say, the first year of divergence often will stay much the same, and from there things will spiral outwards. Something that needs to be remembered is that while we've put a lot more into Harry's character, given him strength and power to rival the Voldemort of canon, the Voldemort of this story is a different beast entirely, filled with untold power and aided by a minion who is actually competent at his job. It's going to be far harder for Harry to achieve anything.

Finally you need to remember that a lot has changed. Harry's scar doesn't exist, thus no link with Voldemort, he has his relationship with Hermione to keep him centred and training hard, he has a family to nurture him and support him in the coming trials. And above all he's more of a magical prodigy than in canon. There is a lot more yet to come, and much of it will stray from the beaten track in explosive fashion.

PezBerry: Thanks! I'm, as always, glad you enjoyed it.

Shadowking: See guys? This guy gets it, question the motives.

Darklelouch: Harry certainly has some decisions to make, and some of them made under pressure might lead to terrifying results.

Pairingmatters: You may have missed it but I made it clear in a previous review response that dean had died, rather gruesomely too.

Vegasman: But… Ron's dead… how could he have betrayed them? My head hurts…

Nathanhale: This guy also sort of gets it, you don't die in someone else's head and leave nothing behind.

Albrkic: Oh go put a sock in it, also how the hell do you pronounce that username? O.0

Shugokage: Awh, thank you! Glad to have someone comment on his revival

Darkow: I'm sad for Fleur too ;.;, but at least she died with her bond fulfilled.

Anotherboarduser: Maybe in the comfort of our own homes we can make the distinction between Fleur's being a traitor and otherwise, but Harry was panicked, stressed, and in a lot of pain, I think we can forgive him for not thinking straight, also he didn't have Hermione with him, keeping him calm, that made a difference. Also, there will definitely be a sequel, just not for a while.

Randomomens: Pettigrew wasn't under the Imperius, I'm pretty sure a ritual like that would need a willing servant to sacrifice themselves, wait, it's my universe, YES, the sacrifice did require a willing sacrifice. At this point in the narrative (Though we don't see it) Pettigrew has only one thing he's going to be useful for and he knows it, so he gives himself up for his cause, it's a sort of fanaticism that many of the death eaters will show.

Belthezzor: Ah yes I wondered when this would come up. When the will was read post Lily and James' deaths it would have become a document under public record. The Goblins are very transparent about that kind of thing. And the Hogwarts Library has a self-updating registry of births deaths, marriages and wills, Harry and Hermione would be in there as a 'Bonded Betrothal'. As for why she didn't tell him? Hermione would have assumed that Harry was told by Dumbledore (As per the law) and that Harry just didn't want to talk about it, simple mistake to make. Finally as for why Harry admitted to being abused, it was something of a last straw for him, and there are other reasons as to why he's still such a good person despite it all and still in control of his wits. Most people who are physically abused are also violent themselves, but do we see Harry being so? Of course not, because there's another factor in play I haven't told you about yet, Harry isn't the typical abuse sufferer.

DarkHeart: Ah, probably should have made that clearer, The Veela bond is about reproduction, it searches the most powerful physically healthy male in the area and bonds the Veela to him, then the bond creates feelings of intimacy later. A bond of love, (Like the one Harry and Hermione form) Is the one you are describing which requires intimacy first and usually leads to sprogs later. The curse they threw at Fleur just tricked her magic into believing Harry was the most Powerful (Not much of a stretch) and physically healthy (Much trickier) male she would ever meet.

Atokkota: See? I'm not being a retard, youngsters do drink tea.

Sent Via tablet: You think that's over the top? Wow you lead a sheltered life.

Exalted Demi-soul: Right? Things got messy quickly, and will keep getting…. Shutup Lucian, they don't know about that yet.

Inferius: This fills me with a disproportionate amount of pride.

Marvin: Woah there friend, settle down. Firstly yes I admit I made Krum a bit tall, but 60-70 feet translates into about 18-21 meters, the knee of a dragon would probably be about… eh 6 meters? Tops? So yes, I did screw up I think I meant to write ankle there, but 60-70 feet is still wrong.

Secondly, A school bus (And I'm assuming you're American) is about three meters tall, so… your math doesn't work for a start. Six school buses is more accurate, not six hundred, additionally, 22 million pounds? Really? What the hell are my dragons made of? Miniature neutron stars?

I only dignified this with a response because you made me laugh for a solid five minutes and I thought that deserved a reply.

Lady Isowen: Awh, thank you! That's nice to hear.

Major Wallace: Um, thanks, shortest review ever anyone?

TheFantasticFangirl: Wait, never mind, this is the shortest review ever, but it's also a greeting, so… Hi!

Alright lads and ladies, that's it for now, watch this space though because I'll probably start writing some other HP fanfiction soon enough. There is a sequel in the works for this story but it's on the backburner for now. Happy hunting! Happy reading! And HHr for life!

LGreymark


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